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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


•"^^lytcouigua, 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2010  witii  funding  from 

University  of  Nortii  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/onoffensivearmysOOputn 


ON   THE   OFFENSIVE 


BY    THE    SAME    AUTHOR. 


IN    BLUE    UNIFORM. 

An   Army    Novel.      1 2mo,         .  .       $1.00 


ON    THE    OFFENSIVE. 

An   Army   Story.      12nno,  .  .       $1.25 


On  the   Offensive 


AN  ARMY  STORY 


BY 

GEORGE  I.  PUTNAM 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

1894 


COPYRIGHT,    1894,    BY 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER's   SONS 


TROW  oinECTonv 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK 


M. 


TO 

F.    U. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 


It  was  pay-day  at  the  Fort.  All  labor  but  the 
necessary  guard  and  police  had  been  suspended 
by  orders  at  retreat  the  night  before.  The  men, 
in  snug  blue  blouses  and  conspicuous  white  gloves, 
loitered  idly  about  the  whitewashed  halls  of  bar- 
racks. One  captain  had  ordered  his  company  into 
full-dress  uniform ;  for  pay-day,  at  those  isolated 
western  stations,  was  invested  with  dignity  ;  and 
the  progress  to  the  pay-table  fell  not  short  of  a 
ceremony.  At  intervals  a  clear-voiced  corporal 
would  be  heard  across  the  parade,  turning  out  a 
company  ;  and  immediately  after  a  thin  blue  col- 
umn would  be  marching  away  to  surprise  its  lean 
pockets  with  the  month's  pay — $13  for  the  rank 
and  file,  $18  in  the  case  of  certain  leathery  old  non- 
commissioned officers.  They  were  eager,  not  ava- 
ricious— -at  those  terms ;  duty  done  and  reward 
within  grasp — the  consciousness  of  it  was  on  every 
man's  face. 

A  week  before  some  fifteen  men  had  gone  un- 
ostentatiously forth  from  the  Fort,  as  though  hop- 


2  ON   THE  OFFENSIVE 

ing  to  escape  observation  by  that  portion  of  the 
community  that  lived  by  preying  upon  the  other. 
Last  evening  they  had  returned  with  the  air  of  the 
campaign  about  them,  escorting  the  paymaster,  his 
clerk,  his  books,  and  his  money-chest.  It  was  their 
watchfulness  that  rendered  pay-day  a  joyous  prob- 
ability. And  now  the  paymaster  sat  at  the  head 
of  the  long  table  on  which  piles  of  gold  and  silver 
coin  Avere  arranged  methodically  Avithin  his  reach. 
The  slow  machinery  of  the  pay-table  was  in  oper- 
ation. The  captain  of  a  company  shouted  the 
names  of  his  men  ;  the  paymaster's  clerk  repeated 
each,  checked  it  off,  and  proclaimed  the  sum  due  ; 
the  soldier  marched  sedately  into  the  commercial 
presence  and  received  the  coin  from  the  paymas- 
ter's hand,  'bout  faced,  and  marched  out  again.  A 
slow  machine  and  ponderous,  but  it  ran  smoothly 
and  accurately.  Time  was  not  of  great  moment  in 
a  place  where  no  tAVO  clocks  agreed,  and  the  sun 
governed  each  twenty -four  hours'  doings. 

As  the  paymaster  and  his  escort,  dust-enveloped, 
had  trailed  dimly  through  the  godless  frame-and- 
canvas  town  that  lay  but  across  the  clear,  rippling 
creek  from  the  Fort,  the  signal  had  passed  to  every 
gambler,  every  adventurer  of  either  sex,  and  they 
had  gathered  for  the  vigorous  plying  of  their 
trades.  Monthly  pay-day  Avas  the  bright  event  of 
their  lives ;  soldiers  Avere  golden  -  fleeced  sheep, 
anxious  to  be  shorn.  Just  Avithout  the  military 
reservation  stood  a  saloon.     The  poAver  of  the  com- 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  3 

manding  officer  was  bounded  by  the  Hue  of  the 
government  survey  ;  but  he  had  gone  to  the  line 
and  said,  "  Thus  near  thou  mayest  come,  and  no 
nearer,"  and  there  the  saloon  had  established  itself. 
From  its  side  door  a  man  with  a  strong  arm  might 
have  smashed  beer-bottles  against  the  outer  wall 
of  the  commanding  officer's  quarters. 

To-day,  this  saloon  was  a  rallying  point.  The 
stock  of  liquors  had  been  replenished  ;  gamblers  in 
every  degree  sat  at  tables  in  the  card-  and  billiard- 
rooms  ;  devices  of  all  sorts  were  about  the  path  of 
the  adventurously  inclined  ;  women  in  barbaric  col- 
ors displayed  themselves  as  it  might  be  alluringly. 
The  sawing  and  beating  of  musical  instruments  in 
fantastic  measures  troubled  the  mild,  mid-fall  air  ; 
they  were  sounding  the  onslaught,  the  charge. 

It  was  pay-day  at  the  Fort.  Beneath  a  narrow 
awning,  on  either  side  the  entrance  to  the  paying- 
room,  was  placed  a  chair — forethought  of  devout 
soldiers.  Here  sat  two  Sisters,  black  of  gown, 
meek  of  face,  roughened  and  worn  by  the  fierce- 
ness of  the  sun,  the  rigor  of  the  wind,  the  many 
deep  necessities  of  the  outcast,  law-defying  men 
and  women  to  whom  in  that  weary  land  they  min- 
istered. Downcast  of  eyes,  silent  of  tongue,  the 
small  crucifixes  suspended  around  their  necks  and 
scarcely  moving  on  their  gentle  bosoms  indicated 
their  purpose,  spoke  for  them — and  this  so  elo- 
quently, that  no  soldier  passed  from  the  pay-table 
without  dropping  into  their  receptacle  some  coin. 


4  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

Only  the  scanty  length  of  the  parade  stretched  be- 
tween the  pay-table  and  the  saloon,  but  the  sol- 
diers' first  tribute  was  paid  to  God !  And  some 
dropped  a  coin  to  the  work  of  the  Sisters  for  the 
sake  of  conscience  ;  and  some  for  the  sake  of  a 
sudden  memory ;  and  some  because  good  deeds  ■ 
will  not  come  amiss  at  the  last  day ;  and  some  be- 
cause it  was  a  virtuous  thing  to  do  and  should 
bring  them  luck  at  the  games  within  the  half -hour. 
And  thus  the  Sisters  recruited  their  slender  fund 
for  charity. 

Pay-day  always  brought  Father  Brugan  to  the 
Fort.  This  keen  Catholic  priest,  barely  thirty, 
with  his  smoothly  shaven  face  and  his  acquired  air 
of  fond  paternalism,  was  fashioned  like  an  athlete. 
This  may  have  been  one  reason  why  he  was  so 
well  liked  by  the  ordinarily  distrustful  soldiery  ; 
for  men  given  to  the  exercise  of  the  robust  vir- 
tues are  apt  to  exalt  them  above  mental  attain- 
ments. But  it  was  not  this  alone.  A  fine  pres- 
ence would  not  have  warranted  the  respect  and 
love  they  bore  him.  They  obeyed  him  as  promptly 
as  they  did  Colonel  Gerrish,  and  with  a  vastly  dif- 
ferent feeling  at  heart;  for  the  colonel  claimed 
control  only  over  their  bodies,  while  the  priest 
took  moral  issue  with  them  and  tinctured  his  com- 
mands with  spiritual  authority.  And  as  ho  did 
not  confine  himself  to  words  alone,  but  worked 
with  unwearied  diligence  for  whomsoever  had  need 
of  him,  his  words  had  weight.     Not  many  men  in 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  5 

barracks  would  listen  to  him  and  then  deliberately 
run  counter.  And  they  believed  in  him  because, 
with  all  his  strength  and  manliness,  he  bore  the 
hand  of  the  Church  consciously,  and  was  ever 
mindful  of  his  vows. 

He  came  from  the  little  town,  crossed  the  creek 
on  the  stepping-stones — it  had  been  a  dry  summer 
and  the  water  was  low — and  briskly  climbed  the 
bluff  by  the  foot-path  that  circled  the  limestone 
outcroppings.  He  shot  up  inch  by  inch  to  the 
brown  level  of  the  parade  ground,  and  came  at  a 
quick  pace  toward  the  officers'  line.  Lydia  Ger- 
rish,  on  the  porch,  saw  him  and  directed  the  col- 
onel's attention. 

"  Here  comes  your  co-laborer,  papa." 

"  Oh,  the  priest,"  he  replied,  after  a  quick  glance, 
gladly.  "Good-morning!  "  he  shouted,  cheerfully. 
"  You  are  early  on  the  field,  and  the  enemy  seems 
to  have  planned  an  elaborate  campaign  against  us," 
shaking  one  strong  hand  toward  the  saloon,  while 
he  warmly  welcomed  the  priest  with  the  other. 

He  returned  the  cordial  greetings  of  father  and 
daughter  in  a  slightly  embarrassed  manner.  "  I 
believe  we  shall  need  all  the  time  that  is  given  us," 
he  said,  explaining  his  early  appearance.  He  went 
on  stiltedly :  "I  wished  to  ask  the  commanding 
officer's  permission  to  speak  with  the  men  in  their 
barracks." 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  said  the  colonel,  with 
bluflf,  military  heartiness.    "  You  don't  have  to  ask 


6  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

permission.  You  can  go  anywhere  on  this  reser- 
vation without  a  permit." 

"  You  are  very  kind."  The  priest  bowed.  He 
lingered  a  moment  in  awkward  leave-taking,  and 
then  hurried  away  to  the  first  of  the  low  stone 
barracks  that  were  strung  along  the  opposite  side 
of  the  parade  like  beads  on  a  chain.  He  passed 
from  one  to  the  other,  speaking  to  the  men  he  knew 
by  name  in  a  way  that  showed  his  familiarity  with 
their  weaknesses  and  his  authority  over  them. 

"  Now,  Gavin,"  said  he,  "  put  away  those  cards." 
For  Gavin  had  just  installed  himself  as  dealer  in  a 
faro  game  and  was  inviting  the  bets  of  his  com- 
rades. "  Put  them  away.  You  know  it's  against 
regulations." 

Gavin  was  loath  to  abandon  his  position.  "  'Tis 
but  a  friendly  game,  y'r  Riv'runce,"  he  protested. 
"  Just  to  pass  the  time.  You  wouldn't  have  us  go 
to  the  gamblers,  sir  ?  " 

"No,  not  that.  If  you  must  play,  go  out  in 
some  of  the  limestone  caves.  You  will  break  no 
rules  there."  He  bent  to  Gavin's  ear  and  whis- 
pered a  word  as  he  Avent  by.  He  had  hardly  gone 
from  the  room  when  Gavin  arose  and  hurriedly 
followed  him. 

"  Y'r  Riv'runce,"  he  asked,  "  will  you  take  me 
money  an'  keep  it  till  I  can  get  the  letter  to  me 
mother  writ'  ?  " 

"  Now,  that  is  better,"  said  the  priest,  approv- 
ingly.    "But  I  will  not  touch  your  money,  Gavin. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  7 

Go  to  your  officer  and  ask  bim.  He  is  the  one  to 
keep  it  for  you." 

Father  Brugan  hurried  on.    In  one  room  he  said  : 

"  Robinson,  how  much  of  your  pay  is  coming  to 
you  this  month  ?  " 

Robinson  dropped  his  head  and  smiled  weakly 
as  he  recognized  the  watchful  care  of  the  priest 
over  him.  "  The  whole  of  it,  thanks  to  you,  sir. 
It's  the  first  month  in  a  long  time  there  hasn't  been 
a  fine  against  me." 

A  little  later^  on  the  parade,  he  intercepted  a  man 
heading  toward  the  saloon.  "  Look  here,  Killeen," 
he  said,  decidedly,  "your  quarters  are  not  that 
way.  Take  the  paj"  home  to  your  wife  ;  she  has  a 
better  right  to  it  than  those  people." 

He  made  a  circuit  of  the  post,  and  returned  to 
the  colonel's  porch  with  a  look  of  concern  on  his 
face.  "  It  is  nip  and  tuck,  Colonel,"  he  said,  with 
a  grave  smile. 

"  With  the  chances  in  favor  of  nip,"  replied  the 
colonel,  jocosely.  He  liked  to  see  people  feel  at 
home,  and  he  thought  to  reassure  the  priest  with 
the  same  manner  of  Avelcome  that  he  would  have 
deemed  proper  for  any  other  visitor.  "  Nip  has 
the  first  chance ;  tuck  wdll  come  later  in  the  guard- 
house and  the  court-martial."  He  breathed  out  a 
little  sigh  for  futile  endeavor.  "  Well,  it  was  al- 
ways the  soldier  way  to  go  courting  the  enemy. 
Experience  is  thrown  away  on  them  ;  Avhat  they 
learn  one  pay-day  they  forget  before  the  next.   It's 


8  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

a  good  while  now  since  I  got  over  expecting  a 
soldier  to  take  any  care  of  himself.  One  machine 
can't  do  everything,  you  know,  and  when  yon  get 
a  good  one  to  fight  with  you  mustn't  expect  it  to 
think,  too.  No  ;  that's  too  much  for  any  enlisted 
machine  that  wears  the  blue." 

Miss  Gerrish  laughed.  "  There  must  always  be 
a  man  to  run  the  machine,"  she  ventured. 

"  That's  it,  daughter !  "  the  colonel  assented,  in 
a  cheerful  roar.  "  Somebody  to  give  orders  and 
see  that  they're  obeyed."  He  turned  suddenly  to 
the  priest.  "  You  do  about  as  much  as  any  of  us 
to  keep  things  running  well.  You're  a  pretty  fair 
soldier  yourself ! " 

"  Just  think,  if  you  were  an  ojflicer,  what  a  brib 
liant  career  you'd  have  !  "  gurgled  Lydia. 

The  priest  would  have  evaded  this  turn  of  the  con- 
versation. "  May  not  these  qualities  have  a  good 
effect  on  my  w^ork  as  it  is  ?  "  he  asked,  rather  comba- 
tively. "  There  is  much  that  is  similar — organiza- 
tion, plans  of  campaign,  discipline,  work — all  that." 

"  And  fighting,"  added  the  colonel,  with  pro- 
fessional relish.  "  You  have  a  hard  field  here,  I 
declare !  When  I  think  of  civilized  communities 
and  compare  them  with  this,  I  think  it  would 
astound  some  people  to  know  what  you  are  doing." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  serve  where  I  can  do  the 
most  work." 

"  Then  you  must  be  well  satisfied  with  this  sta- 
tion !  "  Miss  Gerrish  volunteered,  Liughing  shrilly. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  9 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  I  would  not 
wish  to  be  transferred — not  for  a  long  time." 

Colonel  Gerrish  came  in  with  the  result  of  ob- 
servation. "  Ah,  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  the 
church  stands  an  equal  chance  with  the  saloon  in 
this  territory."  He  had  passed  his  life  in  moving 
from  one  extreme  point  of  the  frontier  to  another, 
seeing  constantly  renewed  the  struggle  between 
these  two  elements  of  modern  social  circumstance. 
The  brothel  and  the  bar  would  be  in  the  ascendant 
at  first  and  for  a  time  ;  but  the  other  force  insinuat- 
ed itself,  grew,  and  gained  strength,  until  at  length 
equilibrium  seemed  about  established.  Then  that 
point  would  no  longer  be  frontier,  there  would  be 
no  further  need  for  the  military,  and  he  would 
move  on  to  the  next  station. 

"We  are  here  in  the  cause  of  law  and  order,"  he 
rumbled  deeply,  "  and  that's  the  chm'ch,  every 
time.  "Not  your  church,  nor  any  other  one  estab- 
lishment— but  of  the  church.  The  army  is  a  bar 
against  disorder,  and  an  entering  wedge  for  what 
is  right,  and  good,  and  high.  Sometimes  it  seems 
to  me— well,  queer — that  it  should  be  so.  Kind 
of  illogical.  For  the  army  is  a  mainstay  of  the 
saloon  in  these  frontier  places,  and  yet  it  is  sworn 
in  the  opposition.     I  can  hardly  reconcile  it." 

"  I  can,"  said  Lydia,  quickly.     "It  is  only  this, 

'  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 
His  wonders  to  i^erform.' 


10  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

The  rest  is  not  so  applicable,  so  I  won't  repeat  it. 
But  that  gives  the  idea  I  have  of  it." 

The  colonel  looked  npon  her  pridefuUy.  "  Lydia 
always  does  have  a  bit  of  verse  that  hits  it  off,"  said 
he.  "  She  reads  a  great  deal.  To  tell  the  truth, 
there  isn't  much  else  for  a  woman  to  do  at  a  milita- 
ry station,  unless  she  gossips.     And  Lj^dia  reads." 

"  Her  quotation  is  very  applicable,"  said  the 
priest,  nodding  approvingly.  "  It  does  look  para- 
doxical, but  where  God  is  concerned  we  hardly 
need  borrow  trouble  about  seeming  incongruities. 
And  reading  is  pleasant,  I  am  sure  ;  but  is  gossip 
so  very  unfortunate  in  a  military  station  that  you 
should  set  your  face  against  it  uncompromis- 
ingly ?  "     He  had  turned  to  L3^dia, 

"  Papa  has  exaggerated  some  ;  he  always  does 
when  he  is  praising  me.  You  would  imagine  I 
never  spoke  of  my  neighbors  and  took  no  interest 
in  them,  but  that  isn't  so.  Mamma  and  I — and 
papa,  too  !— do  talk  them  over,  and  sometimes  we 
scold  them  horribly  to  ourselves.  But  it  never 
goes  any  farther,"  she  concluded. 

"  Then  it  isn't  gossip,"  declared  the  colonel, 
putting  the  official  stamp  of  the  commanding  offi- 
cer on  it. 

"  And  telling  one  another  little  things  that  have 
been  observed  about  garrison  ;  would  that  be  gos- 
sip, now  ?  "  asked  the  priest,  making  a  desperate 
dash  at  light  humor  across  his  pervading  serious- 
ness. 


OW  THE  OFFENSIVE  11 

Colonel  Gerrish  made  no  reply  ;  and  his  daugh- 
ter answered,  compromisingly,  "  Well,  one  could 
hardly  tell  from  that.     It  would  depend." 

"  I  have  a  personal  reason  for  asking,"  the 
priest  continued.  "  I  noticed  a  rather  funny  little 
incident  this  morning  that  I  might  tell — if  it  would 
not  be  gossiping." 

"  Oh,  tell  it,  please,"  Miss  Gerrish  pleaded, 
quickly.  "  I'm  sure  it  wouldn't."  And  the  colo- 
nel added,  "  Risk  it  by  all  means,  risk  it."  They 
all  laughed  at  the  readiness  with  which  the  chance 
was  accepted. 

"  It  was  only  this,"  he  began.  "  By  the  door  of 
the  pay-room  were  two  Sisters,  soliciting  alms. 
Two  little  boys  saw  that  the  men  gave  them 
money  freely — just  as  soldiers  always  do.  The 
boys  evidently  thought  it  a  good  chance  to  collect 
spending  money,  for  they  took  their  stand  just 
within  the  door,  hats  in  hand,  where  the  soldiers 
would  see  them  first.  I  think  they  got  a  nickle  or 
two  before  their  father  discovered  them  and 
marched  them  away  to  some  kind  of  punishment." 

They  received  the  priest's  little  story  good-nat- 
uredly. "  The  little  monkeys  !  "  gasped  the  colo- 
nel, chuckling  at  the  mental  picture  it  conjured  up. 

"  That  is  it  precisely,"  said  the  priest.  *'  Imita- 
tive as  monkeys.  They  intended  nothing  wrong. 
I  had  to  laugh  when  I  saw  them,  but  the  father 
was  stern  enough  to  make  up  for  it." 

"  It  would  be  just  like  Mr.  Lawrence's  boys  to 


12  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

do  that,"  said  Lydia,  out  of  her  experience. 
"  They  are  the  liveliest  children — going  every- 
where, into  everything.  And  they  are  so  imita- 
tive !  They  noticed  that  the  dogs  are  always  dis- 
turbed by  the  bugles  and  howl  in  anguish  at  the 
sound.  So,  what  did  tlie  boys  do  yesterday  morn- 
ing at  guard-mount,  but  go  down  on  hands  and 
knees  in  front  of  the  lino  of  soldiers  when  the 
bugles  sounded,  and  stick  their  noses  up  in  the  air 
and  howl  as  much  like  dogs  as  they  could !  The 
soldiers  laughed  and  the  ceremony  nearly  failed." 

The  priest  was  pleased.  "  They  are  versatile 
indeed  when  their  talent  for  imitation  goes  out- 
side humankind  and  takes  in  the  dogs.  You  Avere 
right ;  these  were  Mr.  Lawrence's  boys.  You  can 
expect  something  unusual  from  them  when  they  are 
grown." 

"  Huh !  "  coughed  the  colonel.  "  We  don't  have 
to  wait  for  that.  They  keej)  the  garrison  from 
going  to  sleep  now,  I  tell  you !  It  is  the  unusual 
we  always  expect  from  them." 

Several  of  the  younger  officers  going  by  at  that 
moment,  the  colonel  discovered  among  them  the 
father  of  the  boys,  and  called  for  the  entire  party 
to  come  up.  "  Hello,  Lawrence !  Come  up !  I 
want  to  ask  you  a  point.  Come  up,  Ealph !  Spur- 
bridge!" 

They  filed  up  readily,  shook  hands  with  the 
priest,  bowed  to  Miss  Gerrish  as  to  the  daughter 
of  their  commanding  officer,  and  leaned  about  the 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  13 

porch  against  the  post  and  railings.  Ralph  wore 
a  sword,  that  clanked  against  everything,  and  was 
sometimes  outside  his  legs,  and  sometimes  be- 
tween them.  He  was  officer  of  the  day.  There 
was  a  quizzical  light  in  the  colonel's  eyes  as  he 
turned  to  Lawrence. 

"  Where  are  your  boys,  Lawrence  ?  I'll  bet  you 
can't  put  your  finger  on  them,  or  guess  within  half 
a  mile  of  their  whereabouts." 

"I'll  take  you  at  any  odds,  Colonel,"  he  replied. 
"  I  caught  the  little  rats  at  the  pay-table,  trying  to 
head  off  the  fund  for  the  Catholic  hospital.  And 
they  were  doing  it,  too  !  They  had  thirty  cents 
between  them  when  I  took  them  red-handed.  I 
marched  them  home,  and  Mrs.  Lawrence  and  I  at 
once  court-martialed  them." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Lawrence — what  did 
you  do  ?  "  asked  Father  Brugau,  struck  by  the 
phrase,  and  bending  forward  in  his  interest. 

"  Com't  -  martialed  them.  We  never  think  of 
punishing  them  without  allowing  them  a  fair 
trial.  I  was  the  judge  advocate,  and  Mrs.  Law- 
rence was  the  court.  I  brought  the  offenders  be- 
fore the  court,  stated  the  case  against  them,  and 
volunteered  to  act  as  their  counsel.  They  declined 
my  ser\dces,  pleaded  guilty,  alleged  first  offence, 
and  threw  themselves  on  the  mercy  of  the  court. 
The  court  was  then  cleared  by  putting  the  boys 
in  the  hall  with  the  door  open,  so  that  they  might 
see  us  at   our   deliberations — not  that  we  might 


14:  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

keep  an  eye  ou  them.  We  readied  a  finding  in 
accordance  with  the  plea,  called  them  in,  and  pub- 
lished the  sentence  of  the  court :  that  they  be  im- 
mediately confined  in  the  nursery  for  a  space  of 
two  hours,  then  to  have  their  limits  extended  to 
include  the  back  yard  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 
They're  in  the  back  yard  now,  Colonel,  or  I  lose 
my  wager." 

"  You  have  seen  them  there  ? "  asked  the 
priest. 

"  No,  but  they  would  watch  the  clock  sharply  to 
know  when  the  two  hours  were  up." 

"Perhaps  they  have  disregarded  their  limits," 
Spurbridge  suggested. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  "  protested  Lawrence.  "  They 
are  on  their  honor  in  the  back  yard,  and  they 
have  as  high  a  regard  for  their  honor  as  any 
majah  you  ever  saw !  They  have  an  impression 
that  when  they  lose  their  honor  the  sky  will  fall 
down  and  smother  them." 

"  Pity  we  can't  inoculate  the  enlisted  man  with 
the  same  idea,"  Spurbridge"  remarked,  settling  his 
shoulders  back  with  an  air  of  superior  rectitude 
in  the  commissioned  strength. 

Ralph  cleared  his  throat  nervously,  clanked  his 
sword,  and  addressed  himself  to  Miss  Gerrish. 
"  I  tell  Lawrence  he'll  have  to  run  those  two  boys 
— take  'em  out  in  a  leash,  you  know,  like  a  couple 
of  spaniels — a  pair  you  don't  want  to  get  mixed 
with  the  rest  of  the  pack.     They  were  down  at  the 


ON  TUE  OFFENSIVE  15 

pumping-liouse  tlie  other  day,  trying  to  get  their 
fingers  pinched  off  short  in  the  engine.  The  en- 
gineer didn't  see  them  come  in,  and  he  keeps  a 
good  watch  out,  too.  He  thinks  they  fell  into  the 
creek,  you  know,  and  were  pumped  up  to  the  tanks 
and  floated  back  down  the  pipes.  Lawrence  ought 
to  put  flanges  on  them  so  they  can't  get  through 
such  little  places." 

Mrs.  Gerrish  came  out  and  joined  the  group. 
She  was  a  large  and  rather  severe  lady,  who 
builded  her  conduct  by  conventional  rules.  At 
her  window-seat  she  heard  the  voices  that  pro- 
claimed a  gathering  of  men,  and  deemed  it  unwise 
to  leave  Lydia  unsupported  in  their  midst.  So  she 
came  into  view,  greeted  the  assemblage  with  an  all- 
inclusive  "  Good-afternoon,  gentlemen,"  and  sat 
by  Lydia.  She  rarely  added  to  the  spice  of  a 
conversation ;  her  function  was  rather  to  appear 
simply  in  the  support  of  propriety.  Lydia  moved 
a  chair  for  her,  looked  into  her  face  to  discover  if 
she  had  the  maternal  approval,  and  finding  she 
had,  turned  again  to  the  chatty  officers. 

Father  Brugan,  feeling  on  the  defensive  when 
the  enlisted  men  Avere  in  question,  had  taken  up 
Spurbridge's  remark.  "  I  supposed  honor  was  a 
large  share  of  the  stock-in-trade  of  soldiers,"  he 
said,  combatively. 

"A  little  of  it  goes  a  good  ways,  sometimes," 
Spurbridge  retm'ned.  "  It  makes  a  good  veneer, 
but  it  doesn't  seem  to  soak  into  the  grain." 


16  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"That's  just  Spurbridge's  slate-blue  way  of 
looking  at  it,"  Ralph  burst  in,  more  at  ease  now 
that  he  was  talking  with  the  men.  "  He  never  got 
over  the  trick  his  company  played  him  when  he 
joined.  One  of  the  men  came  over  and  borrowed 
five  dollars  of  him ;  then  he  went  back  and  told  his 
waiting  comrades  the  game  was  easy.  The  com- 
pany at  once  began  to  file  over  to  Spurbridge's 
quarters,  and  in  the  course  of  a  week  he  had 
loaned  out  nearly  a  month's  paj^ — of  which  I'm 
mistaken  if  he  ever  saw  a  cent  again.  I  tell  him 
he  ought  to  consider  it  a  sort  of  initiation  fee,  and 
not  lay  it  up  against  the  company  so  high.  Any 
man  '11  take  the  chance  of  a  snap  when  it's  shaken 
at  him.  I  would — and  that's  the  pose  of  the 
majority,  I  guess." 

Mrs.  Gerrish  looked  at  the  loquacious  young 
man  with  clear  disapproval.  Lydia  laughed  with 
the  knowledge  in  her  innocence  that  he  was  talk- 
ing for  effect,  and  not  to  advance  serious  views. 
Father  Brugan  appeared  -  distressed  to  learn  such 
things  of  the  men  with  whom  he  labored  through 
love. 

"  I  hope  all  are  not  so  bad  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Not  all ;  but  there  is  a  steady  glare  of  truth 
through  what  Ral]ih  says,"  Spurbridge  declared. 
"  But  I  don't  think  that  event  has  colored  my  judg- 
ment, although  Ralph  says  very  properly  the  temp- 
tation was  great." 

"  Oh,  thanks,  thanks,"  murmured  Rali)h,  turning 


ON  THE  OFF^ENSIVE  11 

to  force  a  smile  from  Miss  Gerrish,  Spurbritlge 
unconsciously  followed  his  swift  glance,  and  then 
blushed  guiltily. 

"Well,  what  has  colored  it,  then?"  demanded 
Lawrence.  Colonel  Gerrish  sat  back  watching  the 
group.  He  was  well  satisfied  to  let  his  lieutenants 
have  the  conversation  to  themselves,  while  he  made 
quick  estimates  of  their  values. 

"  It's  the  natural  tint,"  Spurbridge  declared.  "  I 
don't  think  the  rank  and  file  know  what  honor  is 
— I  am  giving  you  a  generality.  The  childhood 
and  youth  and  general  associations  of  the  men  are 
not  such  as  to  give  them  any  great  regard  for  it. 
The  army  isn't  made  up  of  gentlemen's  sons  in 
hard  luck,  but  of  men  to  whom  the  woollen  shirt 
and  black  coffee  come  nearer  being  luxuries  than 
necessaries.  And  I  don't  mean  that  they  are  all 
scamps  and  desperadoes,  either,  but  simply  men 
whose  lives  have  been  low  and  unfortunate.  AYe 
recruit  principally  from  the  cities,  and  from  the 
floating  population  at  that.  I  suppose  we  all  know 
what  that  is ;  if  we  don't,  the  police  records  can 
show  us." 

"Well,  it  is  ser\'ice  records  that  count  with  us," 
Lawrence  replied,  "  and  those  don't  bear  you 
out.  Of  course  there  are  scoundrels,  but  the  gen- 
eral result  is  what  Ave're  figuring  on  ;  and  the  gen- 
eral result  is  good." 

"Yes,  and  why?"  Spurbridge  caught  up  the 
point  quickly.  "The  reason  the  service  doesn't 
2 


18  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

show  tlie  worse  side  of  tlie  men's  characters  is  tliat 
they  stand  in  fear  of  discipline.  They  are  brave 
enough  and  reckless  enough  to  face  anything  that 
can  fight ;  that  is  what  the  service  records  show. 
But  they  are  honorable  only  through  stress  of  cir- 
cumstances— and  that  is  not  honor  at  all." 

"  It  must  be  something  good,  though.  What 
will  you  call  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  call  it  compromise,  if  you  like,"  said  Spur- 
bridge,  with  irritating  indulgence.  "  The  honora- 
ble man  will  be  bound  by  his  honor  in  all  things ; 
the  men  do  their  duty  because  they  have  got  to,  or 
suffer.  Is  there  any  honor  in  the  enlisted  man's 
life  outside  his  duty,  even  ?     I  know  of  none." 

The  colonel's  orderly  came  to  the  steps,  saluted, 
and  said  a  man  out  of  Lieutenant  Spurbridge's 
company  wished  to  speak  to  him  a  minute,  if  the 
lieutenant  was  willing.  Spurbridge  ran  down  the 
steps  and  around  the  corner  to  meet  him.  In  a 
moment  he  returned.  Lydia  was  chatting  gayly 
to  the  group,  and  when  a  pause  occurred  he  began 
to  speak. 

"I  was  saying  some  pretty  black  things  about 
the  enlisted  men,  and  perhaps  this  is  a  judgment 
on  my  hasty  tongue  ;  but  now  I  have  something 
good  to  say,  and  I  am  in  just  as  much  of  a  hurry 
to  say  it.  That  man  wanted  me  to  take  his  mon- 
ey and  keep  it  for  him.  He  was  afraid  if  he  had 
it  he  would  gamble  and  lose ;  guess  he  never 
thought  of  winning.     That  would  be  an  impossi- 


ON  THE   OFFENSIVE  19 

bility  over  there."  He  waved  liis  hand  toward  the 
saloon. 

"  Suppose  he  did  lose  it,"  said  Father  Brugan, 
argumentative! J  taking  an  extreme  view.  "  Would 
it  matter  very  much  ?  Temptation  would  then  be 
removed  from  his  path.  And  he  would  not  suffer 
for  anything  ;  I  understand  the  pay  is  in  addition 
to  food  and  clothing  ?  " 

"  That  is  so,  but  he  saves  his  money  to  send  to 
his  old  mother,"  said  Spurbridge,  determined  to 
set  the  man  in  a  good  light.  "  It  seems  she  de- 
pends upon  ten  dollars  a  month  from  him  for  the 
best  part  of  her  support." 

"Why  didn't  he  send  it  to  her  at  once,  and  not 
bother  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  knew  it  would  be  no  bother.  An  officer 
is  always  ready  to  help  his  men.  And  besides,  he 
didn't  dare  go  to  town  to-day  for  a  post-office 
order,  because  the  pitfalls  are  many  and  no  mercy 
is  shown  a  soldier.  The  town  is  run  '  wide  open ' 
whenever  the  paymaster  is  at  the  post." 

"You  will  excuse  me,  I  am  sure,"  continued  the 
priest ;  "  you  were  gone  with  the  soldier  so  short  a 
time,  I  would  really  like  to  know  what  security  he 
asked  of  you?  " 

"  None  whatever."     In  slight  surprise. 

"  None  ?  " 

"  Except  my  word.     What  else  ?  " 

"But  in  business  transactions  some  written 
acknowledgment — some  receipt " 


20  ON  TUB  OFFENSIVE 

"  It  is  not  necessary  among  men  of — with  a  man 
of  honor."  Spnrbritlge  stumbled  a  little  over  the 
correction  ;  he  saw  the  drift  of  the  priest's  ques- 
tioning. But  he  had  no  feeling  of  resentment ; 
Father  Brugau  was  too  highly  esteemed  to  be  rele- 
gated to  the  position  of  a  mere  outsider. 

"  Then  the  enlisted  man  does  look  upon  his  offi- 
cer as  a  man  of  honor  ?  "  came  in  the  priest's  quiet 
tones. 

"  Unquestionably.  Sometimes  he  is  mistaken  ; 
I  admit  it  with  sorrow.  But  it  is  necessary  that 
the  soldier  should  look  up  to  his  officer  for  guid- 
ance, military  and  spiritual — when  we  are  de- 
prived of  the  services  of  a  Father  Brugan."  He 
stopped,  and  made  a  little  bow  as  of  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  priest's  good  offices.  "  The  officer 
cannot  be  below,  or  even  on,  the  soldier's  plane. 
He  must  be  above  it." 

"  Thank  you.  I  understand,"  murmured  the 
priest.  "  So  I  presume  there  may  be  a  nearly 
constant  ratio  between  the  uprightness  of  the  offi- 
cer and  of  the  enlisted  man — an  equal  distance  be- 
tween their  planes  ?  " 

"Why,  yes,  there  might  be,"  the  young  fellow 
replied,  a  little  puzzled.  "It  is  a  pretty  problem 
in  metaphysics,  but  I  dare  say  it  would  work  out 
geometrically." 

Kalph  burst  out  with  a  laugh  of  sudden  appre- 
ciation. "And  I  say,  Spurbridge ! "  he  called, 
"here's  an  element  of  the  problem  that  Father 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  21 

Brugan  has  forborne  to  mention.  It  won't  do  for 
us  to  sit  'round  and  growl  because  the  men  are  no 
different.  If  we  want  to  elevate  the  plane  of  the 
enlisted  men,  first  elevate  our  own.  The  other 
rises  with  it.  Isn't  that  the  idea  ?  "  he  added,  ap- 
pealing with  voice  and  gesture  to  the  priest. 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  say  that ! "  he  protested,  in  dismay. 
But  the  others  laughed  heartily,  and  declared  the 
point  well  taken.  And  while  the  little  confusion 
still  ruled,  the  priest  arose  and  said  he  must  re- 
turn to  town.  And  he  struck  off  across  the  pa- 
rade, his  finely  constructed  figure  towering  above 
ordinary  men  he  chanced  to  meet.  His  poise  was 
strong  and  restful.  Colonel  Gerrish,  following 
him  with  his  eyes,  exclaimed,  in  a  burst  of  impa- 
tience : 

"  What  a  pity  he  chose  to  make  but  half  an  ex- 
istence !     What  a  pity  he  is  a  j^riest !  " 

"  That's  so !  "  murmured  the  young  officers,  in 
assent.  Lydia  alone  seemed  to  recognize  the  fact 
that  bone  and  sinew  were  in  as  great  demand  in 
his  work  as  any  other.     She  sighed  : 

"  What  a  pity  there  are  not  more  like  him  !  " 

"  Lydia !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Gerrish,  in  reproof. 
The  tone  of  the  girl's  words,  her  implied  thought, 
were  not  conventional.  There  was,  too,  a  con- 
structive criticism  of  the  officers  about  her. 

"That  is  quite  true,  mamma,"  she  returned,  calm- 
ly. For  when  she  was  fixed  in  an  opinion,  even 
the  admonition  of  her  mother  failed  of  its  usual 


22  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

effect.  "  He  is  engaged  iii  war  quite  as  seriously 
as  ever  papa  was,  and  lie  liglits  all  the  time.  A 
weak  man  or  an  old  one  would  be  of  no  use  at  all 
here  ;  it  must  require  just  such  a  man  as  he.  And 
what  would  this  bo  without  one  strong,  sincere 
worker  ?  " 

Father  Brugan  walked  toward  home  in  good 
spirits.  He  did  not  hear  the  commendation  of 
Miss  Gerrish,  but  it  may  have  been  its  elevating 
influence  that  caused  him  to  step  so  springily,  to 
hold  his  chin  so  well  up,  and  to  fairly  smile  in  the 
face  of  day.  At  the  corner  of  the  barracks  he  was 
intercepted  by  Gavin,  caj)  in  hand.  "  I  done  as 
you  said,  y'r  Kiv'runce.  I'm  glad,  an'  my  mother'll 
bless  you."  The  priest  commended  him,  and 
passed  on.  Suddenly  a  woman  ran  out  to  him. 
This  was  Mrs.  Killeen,  and  her  daughter  Kitty 
peeped  wistfully  from  the  door  of  the  Killeen 
quarters.  The  woman  said  her  man  had  brought 
homo  his  entire  pay  without  a  word.  She  could 
not  understand  it  until  she  heard  Father  Brugan 
was  in  the  post,  and  so  she  had  run  out  to  weep 
a  grateful  tear  in  his  presence.  Father  Brugan 
smiled  upon  her,  and  passed  on.  He  looked  in 
the  bright  sky  and  saw  the  floating  clouds  lying 
floecily  light  above  one  another.  Abroad,  above, 
all  the  forms  of  nature  were  beautiful;  and  the 
happiness  of  human  beings  in  these  fair  surround- 
ings was  beincr  increased  through  his  deeds.     He 


Oli  THE  OFFENSIVE  23 

pressed  his  Lands  together  and  breathed  a  deep 
breath  of  pure  satisfaction,  for  he  felt  that  he  had 
done  well ;  all  nature  cast  upon  him  her  commen- 
dation. 

Then,  as  he  went  down  the  winding  foot-path, 
he  came  upon  a  soldier  in  uniform,  lying  prone, 
sleeping  oflf  the  gutterings  of  intoxication.  Two 
paces  beyond,  on  a  limestone  shelf,  lay  another. 
Empty  flasks  were  handily  near  each.  He  stopped, 
a  chill  of  horror  at  his  heart ;  not  that  the  sight 
was  so  uncommon,  but  that  it  should  come  so  full 
upon  his  happy  self-communings.  The  sounds 
from  the  saloon  pursued  him,  fell  upon  him  taunt- 
ingly— the  shrieking  of  tortured  violins,  the  hoarse 
chant  of  revelry,  the  clash  and  crash  of  glasses. 
He  heard  a  woman  trolling  forth  with  raucous 
voice  a  ditty  to  which  came  a  refrain,  heavy  and 
degraded  with  the  sodden  shouts  of  men.  Look- 
ing about  him,  his  eye  was  taken  by  the  flutter  of 
a  gay-colored  garment  from  an  upper  window — 
the  flag  of  defiance  at  a  stronghold  of  sin.  And 
he  went  on,  stepping  his  homeward  way  with  a 
despairing  face,  and  murmuring  : 

"  But  they  have  done  so  much  more  against 
me ! " 


II 


Upon  Lieutenant  Ealpli,  as  officer  of  the  day, 
devolved  the  responsibility  for  order  in  the  post, 
and  he  was  compelled  to  be  continually  watchful. 
Ordinarily  a  tour  of  duty  passed  uneventfully 
enough ;  but  ordinarily  the  men  were  not  cursed 
with  the  possession  of  money  for  which  they  had 
no  good  use.  The  saloon  was  the  point  upon 
which  Ealph  had  to  keep  his  eye.  It  was  like  a 
great  pot  boiling  and  seething  over  a  hot  fire. 
He  had  to  see  that  none  of  the  overflow  trickled 
into  the  post  or  disturbed  its  serenity.  A  duty 
of  this  kind  is  always  difficult  and  patience-trying, 
and,  in  a  way,  thankless  ;  in  any  event,  it  would  be 
far  easier  to  take  the  pot  off  the  fire,  or  even  to 
stamp  the  fire  out.  But  that  he  could  not  do. 
That  would  have  been  to  take  into  his  own  hands 
the  functions  of  the  civil  power ;  and  the  civil 
power,  being  in  such  fi'outier  places  the  weaker, 
was  eminently  jealous  of  the  militar}^,  and  required 
to  be  soothed  and  conciliated,  not  antagonized. 
The  military  power  was  constitutionally  subordi- 
nate to  the  civil.  Should  it,  then,  step  beyond  the 
boundaries  of  its  station,  even  for  the  purpose  of 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  25 

self-protection  ?  Not  at  all.  No  provision  was 
made  for  sucli  an  act. 

Ealpli  caused  the  sergeant  of  tlie  guard  to  go 
forth  with  a  patrol  and  gather  in  such  members  of 
the  garrison  as  he  found  hors  de  combat  ;  and  he 
chafed  over  his  acknowledged  inability  to  enforce 
the  order  prohibiting  the  bringing  into  garrison 
of  liquors.  He  did  everything  that  suggested  it- 
self in  the  performance  of  his  duty,  and  might 
have  received  compliments  on  his  efficiency,  had  it 
been  the  army  way  to  make  them.  It  was  not. 
Men  did  their  duty  at  whatever  cost,  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Had  they  neglected  it,  something  would 
have  been  said  ;  and  so  silence  had  become  as 
favorable  a  commentary  as  any  reasonable  man 
could  ask. 

Ealph  did  his  duty  because  it  was  his  duty  to 
do  it.  Personally,  he  had  a  warm  sympathy  for 
the  men.  He  drank  a  good  deal  himself,  except 
when  on  duty  ;  then  it  was  part  of  his  duty  to  re- 
main sober.  At  such  times  a  case  of  intoxication 
did  not  seem  to  him  a  funny  thing.  He  would 
feel  a  certain  pity  for  the  fellow,  born  of  his  own 
experience,  and  would  preferably  set  about  getting 
him  out  of  the  way  to  a  spot  where  he  could  be 
comfortable  and  recover  his  wits  undisturbed. 
That  was  what  it  was  to  be  himself  given  to  sip- 
ping and  supping. 

The  noises  from  the  saloon  did  not  cease  with 
the  going  down  of  the  ashamed  sun.     The  even- 


26  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

iug  tbickeued,  and  fierce  red  liglits  slioue  from  the 
windows.  There  were  shouts  and  a  medley  of  in- 
articulate noises,  all  animated  by  triumph.  For 
the  soldiers  were  pretty  well  through  with  their 
debauch  ;  the  men  and  women  against  whom  they 
had  pitted  themselves  were  experts,  and  required 
but  a  few  hours  to  reduce  the  month's  pay  to  a 
remnant  not  worth  considering,  Hardl}'  one  blue 
uniform  was  now  to  be  found  at  the  saloon,  and 
the  revelry  grew  to  a  delirium.  The  place  was 
filled  with  uncertain  characters  who  answered  to 
nicknames  indicative  of  personal  peculiarities,  with 
grimy  cowboys  who  straddled  about  in  shaggy 
chaparejos,  with  swart  Mexicans  who  had  crept 
out  of  their  adobe  huts  as  the  night  came  down. 
These  were  people  who  did  not  love  soldiers. 
They  looked  upon  them  with  aversion,  cast  ob- 
loquy upon  them  with  every  sentence,  had  per- 
haps fought  against  them  on  unnamed  frontier 
fields.  It  needed  but  the  infiaming  infiuence  of 
drink  to  bring  to  the  surface  all  their  vindictive- 
ness,  to  stir  them  to  some  expression  of  their 
enmity. 

Ealph,  sitting  on  his  porch,  heard  the  popping 
of  revolvers  at  the  saloon,  saw  the  red  flashes  leap 
out  into  the  night,  and  listened  to  the  whistle  of 
bullets  past.  As  though  this  was  a  signal  for 
which  he  had  waited,  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  catch- 
ing up  his  sword  with  one  hand,  and  ran  down 
the   road   past   the   ofiicers'  quarters   toward   the 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  27 

saloon.  As  lie  ran,  more  red  flashes  burst  out, 
and  bullets  cut  tlie  air  about  him.  Once,  when 
a  lucky  shot  shattered  the  glass  of  a  street  light 
above  his  head,  there  were  shrieks  of  exultation, 
and  voices  cried  : 

"  There  goes  one  of  'em  !  Let's  have  an- 
other ! " 

Suddenly  Ralph  sprang  into  the  narrow  circle  of 
their  vision,  panting : 

"  Let  up  on  that !  " 

The  stillness  of  the  dumb  and  palsied  fell  upon 
the  group.  They  expected  next  to  hear  the  quick 
trampling  of  the  guard,  to  see  their  rifles  thrown 
forward  in  uncompromising  menace.  It  was  not 
until  they  discovered  that  Ralph  was  alone  that 
some  of  them  laughed  weakly,  and  others  became 
inclined  to  curse  him.  He  was  not  dismaj^ed. 
His  eye  was  upon  the  proprietor,  who  had  come 
out,  wondering  at  the  sudden  quiet. 

"  If  I  come  down  here  with  the  guard  there'll  be 
more  shooting  yet,"  he  threatened. 

The  proprietor  listened  and  trembled.  He  re- 
lied upon  the  patronage  of  the  post,  and  very  cer- 
tainly had  no  wish  to  antagonize  so  good  a  cus- 
tomer as  Ralph.  He  instinctively  put  the  matter 
on  personal  grounds  and  begged  off. 

"  That's  right,  leftenant.  You're  all  right." 
He  turned  to  the  group.  "Don't  let's  have  no 
more  of  this,  boys.  F'r  God's  sake,  let  up.  We 
don't  want  no  row.     This's  a  respectable  place,  an' 


2S  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

tliere  luiin't  ben  a  row  here  to-day,  Dou't  spoil  it 
all  now,  f'r  God's  sake." 

"  Aw,  f'r  Gawd's  sake,"  jeered  a  woman,  mimick- 
ing his  tone  of  pleading.  Some  of  the  men  laughed 
at  her  reassuringly. 

"  That's  what  I  said  !  "  snapped  the  proprietor, 
finding  he  must  assert  himself  vigorously.  "  This 
ain't  likely  to  be  no  woman's  business,  an'  you'd 
better  keep  sliet  of  it."  She  shrank  back  in  sud- 
den fear. 

"  It's  your  affair,"  said  Ralph,  "  I've  given  you 
fair  warning,  and  if  there's  any  more  of  this  I 
won't  leave  two  sticks  of  your  shop  standing,  and 
some  folks  '11  get  hurt.     You  hear  me  ?  " 

He  walked  calmly  awa}'.  As  he  passed  out  of 
earshot  one  of  the  men  said,  half  admiringly : 

"  Th'  little  cuss  is  plucky !  D'ye  reckon  he'll 
keep  his  word  ?  " 

"  You  bet  he  will ! "  replied  the  proprietor, 
warming  to  the  task  of  promoting  affable  respect. 
"  He  ain't  afraid  o'  nothin'.     I  hioio  him  !  " 

"  I  reckon  you  do  !  "  laughed  another.  "  He's 
had  his  skin  full  o'  your  liquor  more'u  once." 

"  That's  wliat !  "  he  assented,  in  genial  recollec- 
tion. 

"  Well,  I  allers  do  like  a  man  that'll  take  a  drink 
an'  call  your  bluff.  I  sort  o'  rcspec'  'im.  Let's  let 
up. 

"  That's  right,  boys,"  said  the  proprietor,  ap]:>rov- 
ingly,  as  ho  saw  a  general  thrusting  of  revolvers 


ox  TEE  OFFENSIVE  29 

into  belts.  "  He's  a  good  little  feller,  an'  we  don't 
want  to  get  him  into  no  trouble.  Come  on.  Let's 
all  go  in  an'  have  a  drink.     It's  on  me." 

Ralph  strolled  back  up  the  officers'  line  as  calmly 
as  though  nothing  nearer  than  the  stars  required 
his  strict  attention.  Colonel  Gerrish  had  come  out 
on  his  porch  when  the  firing  was  heard,  and  had 
witnessed  Ralph's  prompt  action.  He  withdrew 
into  the  hous3  as  Ralph  came  back,  and  felt  like 
congratulating  himself  on  the  quality  of  at  least 
one  officer  of  his  command.  Lawrence  and  his 
wife  were  also  out,  and  Lawrence  called  to  him : 

"  What's  been  the  matter  down  there,  Ralph?  " 

"  They  got  late  on  their  Fourth  of  July  celebra- 
tion and  were  trying  to  make  up  lost  time,  I  sus- 
pect," Ralph  laughed. 

"  But  didn't  they  fire  right  into  the  post  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Lawrence,  anxiously.  "I  think  they  broke 
that  lamp  in  front  of  our  quarters."  She  was 
fearing  that  more  bullets  might  find  their  en'atic 
way  into  an  upper  chamber  where  two  boys  lay 
asleep. 

"I  am  afraid  you  will  be  alone  in  that  opinion," 
Ralph  said,  to  reassure  her.  "  Looks  to  me  as 
though  it  Avas  done  with  a  stone  ;  that's  about  the 
explanation  the  quartermaster  will  make  on  his 
returns.  Let's  see — the  boys  are  big  enough  to 
throw  stones,  aren't  they?  Summon  me  as  a  wit- 
ness when  you  court-martial  them  !  " 


30  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  There,  Millicent,  I  told  you  you  were  wrong," 
said  Lawrence,  comfortingly.  "  Nobody  is  going 
to  fire  into  the  post.  Let  us  go  in.  Thanks,  Ilalj)li ; 
good-night,"  he  called. 

Spurbridge's  bachelor  quarters  were  that  side  of 
Ralph's  own,  and  an  inviting  light  shone  from  the 
windows.  Ralph  went  in  unceremoniously  and 
found  Spurbridge  with  his  heels  on  the  mantel, 
drawing  blue  consolation  from  a  pipe.  "  Come  in  !  " 
he  had  yelled  without  stirring  when  Ralph's  single 
knock  sounded  on  the  door. 

"  Hope  I  don't  disturb  your  train  of  thought," 
Ralph  remarked,  apologetically. 

"  Hope  you  do,"  responded  Spurbridge,  point- 
ing to  a  chair  placed  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire- 
place in  position  to  correspond  Avitli  his  own.  With 
another  wave  of  the  hand  he  hospitably  indicated 
a  pipe  and  a  jar  of  tobacco  on  the  mantel,  mid\\'ay 
between. 

"  Thanks,  doubly,"  said  Ralph,  accepting  both 
invitations,  "  Do  you  mind  if  I  knock  it  off  the 
track  ?  " 

"  What  ?  " 

"  Your  train  of  thought." 

"  Oh,  that !  She's  ditched  already — many  thanks 
to  you."  Spurbridge  threw  his  arms  wearily  above 
his  head.  "  A  man  may  sometimes  knowingly  en- 
tertain those  who  are  angels  unawares." 

"  You  rate  me  above  my  class,  old  man,"  said 
Ralph,  with   becoming   modesty,     "  But   anyway, 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  31 

seeing  you  are  so  glad  to  have  me  here,  I  believe 
I'll  owl  yon  till  time  to  inspect  my  guard." 

"  I  don't  believe  yoti  can  do  any  better." 

Ralph  tested  the  draw  of  the  pipe  that  had  been 
offered  him,  and  finding  it  all  it  should  be,  filled 
the  bowl,  pressing  the  tobacco  down  mechanically 
with  his  finger.  Then  he  struck  a  match,  and  for 
a  few  moments  devoted  his  mind  and  energy  to  the 
task  of  lighting.  Spurbridge  abstained  from  re- 
mark during  this  critical  period,  unwilling  to  dis- 
tract his  attention.  Ralph's  efforts  were  crowned 
with  success,  and  sinking  into  his  chair,  he  ele- 
vated his  heels  to  the  mantel,  to  correspond  with 
Spurbridge's.  The  mantel  decoration  w^as  thus 
made  harmonious  and  symmetrical  in  its  own  right 
— just  as  a  china  dog  at  one  end  of  a  shelf  should 
be  balanced  by  a  china  cat  at  the  other,  or  as  small 
flower  vases  should  always  go  in  pairs.  Ralph  and 
Spurbridge  did  not  look  at  each  other  through  the 
tobacco  smoke  to  indicate  their  satisfaction  ;  they 
looked  at  their  respective  boots,  and  finding  the 
decorative  effect  good,  drew  into  their  souls  a 
pleasing  sense  of  fitness  and  completeness  in  each 
other's  friendship  and  company. 

"  "What  sort  of  a  day  have  you  had  ?  "  Spur- 
bridge asked,  casually. 

"  I  think  the  devil  set  his  mark  upon  it — sealed 
it  for  his  very  own,"  Ralph  replied,  bitterly.  "  The 
whole  garrison  has  been  on  a  jag.  I've  got  the 
guard-house  full  of  plain  drunks  and  ornate  drunk- 


32  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

and-disorderlies.  Some  are  in  the  hospital  with 
cuts  and  bruises.  The  guard's  been  on  the  jump 
all  day,  and  a  general  sheolic  atmosphere  has  per- 
vaded the  place.  I'll  be  glad  when  8  a.m.  comes 
to-morrow,  and  I  can  turn  the  safe  conduct  of  the 
post  over  to  my  successor." 

"  These  pay-day  tours  are  apt  to  be  rather  hard 
on  one,"  Spurbridge  observed,  sympathetically. 

"  Yes,  there's  always  the  chance  of  it.  It's  the 
money,  you  know.  Money  is  the  root  of  all  evil ; 
did  you  ever  hear  that  before  ?  "  he  asked,  quizzi- 
cally. Then,  without  desiring  a  reply,  "  I  sup- 
pose Congress  is  onto  that,  and  intentionally  keeps 
our  pay  low  enough  to  afford  a  large  factor  of 
safety.  Twenty-nine  days  in  the  month  we  are 
correct  enough  for  any  society ;  it's  only  on  the 
thirtieth  we  get  a  chance  to  kick  up  our  heels  a 
little.  I'm  speaking  more  for  the  men  than  our- 
selves, you  know  ;  we  can  always  compass  a  small 
jag  when  we  feel  like  it." 

"  We  can  always  count  on  the  men  to  kick  uj) 
rough  if  they  have  the  slightest  show  for  it,"  Spur- 
bridge  declared. 

"  Oh,  not  always,  Spurbridge,"  Ealph  said,  more 
tolerantly.  "  Give  the  devils  their  due.  It  runs 
in  streaks,  like  the  fat  and  lean  of  sowbelly.  Some- 
times the  post  is  as  quiet  on  pay-day  as  a  Shaker 
meeting,  when  the  spirit  is  in  statu  quo  ;  then  per- 
haps only  one  or  two  companies  Avill  feel  the  air 
winnowed  by  the  spirit's  Avings ;  and   next  time, 


ox  THE  OFFENSIVE  33 

like  to-day,  every  man  will  be  on  liis  feet  and  all 
talking  at  once.  It  is  very  confusing  at  such 
times,"  he  complained.  "  One  can  get  only  the 
general  tenor  of  the  discourse.  But  most  men 
would  be  satisfied  with  that." 

"  Especially  those  who  are  trying  to  conduct  the 
meeting,"  Spurbridge  laughed.  His  mind  took  a 
sharp  turn  from  its  sternly  critical  attitude ;  his 
wish  was  to  be  just  rather  than  severe.  "  But  I 
suppose  there  will  be  exceptions  to  the  general 
rule,  even  when  pay-day  appears  to  be  all  fat  ?  " 
he  sugo-ested. 

"  Reversing  the  proposition  that  one  black  sheep 
will  be  found  in  every  fold  ?  "  queried  Ralph. 

"  Yes.  I  was  thinking  of  my  man  Gavin,  you 
know." 

"  Oh,  certainly !  The  one  that  tackled  you  on 
the  C.  O.'s  porch.     How  much  did  he  have  ?  " 

"  Only  his  month's  pay." 

Ralph  grew  thoughtful  over  trusts  that  had  been 
reposed  in  him.  "  I  have  had  a  man  come  to  me," 
he  said,  "and  want  me  to  take  care  of  large  sums 
— hundreds  of  dollars— at  a  time.  His  winnings, 
you  know,  that  he  wouldn't  dare  keep  in  ban-acks 
over-night.  He  knew  the  communistic  spirit  that 
prevails  across  the  parade  would  leave  him  as  poor 
as  ever  by  morning  ;  but  he  felt  no  uneasiness 
once  he  had  left  it  in  an  officer's  hands !  Of 
course  such  faith  as  that  is  child-like  ;  it  is  unrea- 
soning, and  one  might  say,  unreasonable." 
3 


34  OX  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  I  wisli  it  wasn't,"  said  Spurbriclge,  regretfully. 

"  Oh,  of  course.  We  should  both  be  glad  if  it 
were  based  on  aiiythiug  broader  than  service  dis- 
cipline, which  teaches  the  men,  nolens  volens,  to 
have  faith  in  us.  We  have  seen  officers  go  to  the 
wall  with  as  disgraceful  a  financial  exposure- 
debts  and  diverted  funds — as  could  happen  in  any 
business.  There  are  two  or  three  a  year  even  in 
our  little  army,  but  in  sj)ite  of  it  all  the  confidence 
of  the  men  is  unshaken.  They  still'look  upon  an 
officer  as — as — as " 

"  The  incarnation  of  honor,"  suggested  Spur- 
bridge. 

"  Ah,  that,"  said  Ralph.  "  Honor.  Funny,  too  ; 
an  officer  does  seem  to  have  more  honor  toward 
the  enlisted  men  than  in  some  other  directions." 
Spurbridge  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  "  That  is 
to  say,"  Ralph  replied,  "  although  we  know  officers 
do  go  to  smash  themselves,  ruin  their  families  and 
all,  did  you  ever  hear  that  an  enlisted  man  suffered 
through  faith  reposed  in  an  officer?     Did  you  ?  " 

"  Never,"  said  Spurbridge,  emphatically. 

Ralph  pulled  intently  at  his  pipe,  took  down  his 
knowledge  of  cases  in  point,  looked  it  over,  and 
put  it  back  without  using.  "  So  they  go  on  trust- 
ing," he  said,  "  Because  they  never  have  been 
struck  by  lightning  they  think  they  never  will. 
Well,  what  storms  may  come  we  know  not."  He 
paused  a  moment,  contemplatively.  "Excellent 
feeling  round  the  heart,  though,  to  reflect  that  a 


ON  THE   OFFENSIVE  35 

lot  of  men  are  constantly  learning  to  trust  you  as 
helplessly  and  uuquestioningiy  as  a  child  learns 
and  believes  in  his  catechism.  Gives  one  a  pro- 
tecting air."  He  laughed  a  little  with  amusement. 
"  How  is  that,  Spurbridge,  at  our  age  to  be  fathers 
to  whole  platoons  of  grown-up,  hairy-fisted  fight- 
ing men  ?  " 

"  It  surpasses  my  wildest  ambitions,"  Spur- 
bridge declared.  "  I  never  thought  when  I  put  on 
the  uniform  that  I  assumed  paternal  cares  with  it." 

"  No,  that's  one  of  the  surprises  of  the  service." 

They  sat  grinning  at  their  boots  in  delight  of 
the  whimsey,  and  they  recharged  the  smoked-out 
pipes  before  they  continued  talking.  By  that 
time  Ralph's  active  mind  had  picked  up  another 
thread  growing  out  of  their  previous  conversation. 
He  and  Spurbridge  alwaj's  talked  easily  together ; 
they  were  sympathetic  in  a  high  degree.  E-alph 
seemed  to  see  in  Spurbridge  the  character  that 
had  been  his  own  when  he  was  fresh  in  the  ser- 
vice. If  he  spent  much  time  with  him  now,  it 
might  be  that  he  desired  to  inform  the  younger 
officer  against  errors  that  had  been  unfortunate  for 
liimself. 

"Your  speaking  of  Gavin,"  said  Ralph,  "and 
the  talk  about  honor  at  the  C.  O.'s,  reminds  me  of 
a  man  we  used  to  have  in  the  regiment — I  forget 
when  he  did  graduate.  He  was  promoted  out 
and  didn't  transfer  back.  Good  man,  too,  and  we 
were  sorry." 


36  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  Who  was  he  ?  " 

"  Wallace  Avas  his  name.  He  was  with  Burns's 
company." 

"  In  the  service  now  ?  I  can't  place  him,"  said 
Spurbridge,  after  a  little  thought. 

"Oh,  it  was  before  your  day.  No,  he  isn't  in 
the  service  now.  He  married  a  girl  back  East, 
and  a  year  after  he  was  promoted  he  resigned. 
His  wife  had  money,  and  I  always  had  an  idea 
she  didn't  like  it,  being  separated  so  from  her 
people  and  knocking  about  from  one  post  to  an- 
other. When  Wallace  resigned  he  went  into  busi- 
ness with  her  father.  But  he  didn't  like  the  ser- 
vice very  well,  somehow,"  Ralph  said,  reflectively. 
"I  remember  he  used  to  have  a  good  deal  to  say 
about  honor  and  the  lack  of  it.  Perhaps  that  was 
why  he  left." 

"  I  don't  know  where  he'd  look  for  it  with  any 
better  chance  of  success  than  in  the  army,"  said 
Spurbridge,  resentfully.  "  It  is  scarce  ;  all  desir- 
able things  are  ;  that's  one  reason  why  they  are 
desirable." 

"Y-e-e-s — well,  it's  in  the  army  and  out  of  it, 
both.  No  one  class  of  men  has  a  monopoly. 
We've  got  just  as  much  of  it  as  outside  people  ; 
no  more."  He  paused  and  sent  a  keen  glance  at 
Spurbridge.  "  If  we  do  seem  a  little  more  punc- 
tilious in  regard  to  debts  and  general  conduct,  it 
isn't  because  of  honor." 

"  No  ?  "  said  Spurbridge,  in  surprise. 


ox  THE  OFFENSIVE  37 

"Why,  that's  just  what  you  said  this  morning 
about  the  enlisted  men,"  said  Ralph,  triumphant- 
ly. "  Can't  you  admit  that  it's  as  true  of  the  Line 
as  of  Barracks  ? "  He  spoke  as  if  in  denial  of 
any  honorable  motive.  "  We  do  what  we  ought, 
because  we'd  be  incontinently  kicked  out  if  we 
didn't.  We're  no  better  than  other  people,  and 
it's  only  a  part  of  the  pose  to  pretend  we  are." 

"  But  we  are  !  "  declared  Spurbridge,  uneffaced. 
"  I  don't  say  this  with  any  swelling  of  vain-glory. 
We  have  had  advantages ;  the  men  have  had  none. 
We  Avere  educated  at  a  place  where  honor  and  pa- 
triotism were  the  legs  we  stood  on,  and  every- 
thing that  could  be  done  to  make  us  highminded 
was  done.  Do  you  pretend  that  the  endeavor  has 
been  wasted  ?  Of  course  we're  better  than  the 
enlisted  men  !  If  not,  we  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
ourselves." 

Ralph  shook  his  head  at  him  with  an  exaggera- 
tion of  sad  discouragement.  "  Oh,  youth,  youth  ! 
What  fine  sentiments  do  you  waste  on  the  desert 
air,  the  calloused  ear  of  the  world  we  live  in  ! 
My  dear  boy,  the  man  who  said  words  were  given 
us  to  conceal  our  thoughts,  might  have  added  that 
the  end  of  education  was  to  veneer  the  real  crea- 
ture, to  idealize  the  natural,  honest  man." 

"  He  was  a  cynic  like  yourself,  and  I'm  sorry 
for  him,"  retorted  Spurbridge,  hotly. 

"  You  are  very  young,  Spurbridge — even  younger 
than  you  think,"  Ralph  continued,  stiffening  a  lit- 


38  ON  THE   OFFENSIVE 

tie  under  the  fling.  "  You  have  been  out  from  the 
Academy  a  little  more  than  a  year ;  I  graduated 
seven  years  before  you  did.  Perhaps  you  will  not 
take  it  as  boasting  if  I  say  that  I  have  learned 
more  in  these  eight  years,  without  intentional  in- 
struction, than  I  did  all  the  time  those  kind  pro- 
fessors at  West  Point  were  getting  me  in  shape  to 
wear  shoulder-straps  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Sjiurbridge,  flinging  back  his 
head.  "  It  only  indicates  that  some  men  don't 
improve  the  advantages  those  professors  afl'ord 
them." 

This  little  pin  of  Spurbridge's  pricked  sharply. 
"  As  to  that,"  said  Pialph,  loftily,  "  class  rank  is 
generally  taken  as  the  standard  of  judgment.  I 
might  compare  mine  with  yours — but  I  won't.  In 
seven  years  more,  with  ordinary  luck,  you  will 
have  learned  that  class  standing  indicates  little 
else  than  capacity'  for  booking.  Our  best  soldiers 
have  been  men  to  whom  books  were  secondary 
considerations.  Nearly  all  of  them  graduated 
somewhere  about  the  immortals,"  and  got  the 
Aveight  of  their  education  later." 

"  Yes,  I  admit  that  about  the  big  generals,"  said 
Spurbridge.  "  It's  a  matter  of  record,  anyway. 
And  as  for  this  aftermath  of  education,  I  suppose 
you  mean  experience  in  human  afi^airs  ?  Kubbing 
up    against   people  ?     Understanding  human  nat- 

*  The  word  is  applied  at  West  Point  to  cadets  who  lag  at  the 
foot  of  their  class. 


OK  THE  OFFENSIVE  39 

ure  ?  "  Kalpli  nodded  repeatedly.  "  Well,  that 
takes  time,"  Spurbridge  continued,  defensively, 
"  and,  I  suppose,  a  certain  human  talent — -or  tal- 
ent for  humanity — that  we  possess  in  varj'ing  de- 
gree. I  didn't  think  of  that,  though,  when  you 
spoke,"  he  admitted,  manfully.  "  I  went  back  to 
the  Academy." 

"  Of  course  you  did,"  said  Ralph,  patronizingly. 
"  It  only  proves  what  I  said — that  you  are  young. 
You've  got  a  fistful  of  savoir-faire  of  a  social  sort, 
Spurbridge,  but  your  hand  isn't  worth  holding 
when  it  comes  to  the  every-day  affairs  of  life." 

"  I  know  it,"  Spurbridge  grieved,  contritely ; 
"  but  what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  Hold  up  something  and  draw  to  it,"  Ralph 
suggested,  lightly  ;  and  then,  seeing  that  Spur- 
bridge was  in  serious  mood,  continued ;  "  Oh,  it's 
merely  a  matter  of  environment.  You  went  from 
a  quiet  home  to  the  seclusion  of  the  Academy,  and 
haven't  had  a  real  chance  at  the  world  yet.  '  What 
shall  you  do  ?  '  Why,  rustle  round  and  mix  in  the 
herd  all  you  can  !  AVherever  you  go,  read  your 
footprints  ;  see  what  you  do,  and  understand  why 
you  do  it.  But  what  am  I  talking  like  this  for? 
You're  no  babe  :  you've  got  sense  even  if  you-  do 
lack  experience.  Excuse  me,  old  man,  and  gang 
your  ain  gait  to  Avernus.  That's  what  I'm  doing 
— and  all  the  rest  of  us." 

"  Oh,  hold  on,  Ralph  !  Don't  throw  it  over  that 
way  !  "  Spui-bridge  entreated.     "  I  know  what  you 


40  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

mean — and  I  don't  mind,  I  assure  you !  I  shouldn't 
care  to  have  others  in  the  regiment  say  these 
things  to  me — but  it's  different  with  you.  We 
understand  each  other — better — somehow.  You're 
pretty  well  along  through  the  mill,  and  I'm  just 
starting  in  to  be  ground.  Say  anything  you 
please,  Ealph.  It's  a  favor  you're  trying  to  do 
me,  and  I  have  sense  enough  to  see  that,  anywa3\" 

Ralph  admitted  the  intended  favor  with  a  grudg- 
ing dislike  of  being  detected.  "  Well,  yes,  I  do 
mean  it  all  right,  and  we  do  understand  the  case. 
This  mill's  a  mighty  irregular  thing,  Spurbridge. 
Some  places  let  you  through  easy,  and  some  just 
husk  the  flesh  off  your  bones.  With  the  assist- 
ance of  considerable  whiskey  and  poker  I  have 
succeeded  in  being  reduced  to  the  mimsy  skele- 
ton you  see  before  you."  He  stretched  his  rather 
meagre  form  in  the  chair  to  show  the  result  of  the 
grinding,  and  laughed  in  grim  recognition  of  it. 

"  Not  so  bad  as  that,"  Spurbridge  said,  comfort- 
ingly. "You're  in  fine,  healthy  trim — ready  for  a 
campaign  to-morrow  ! " 

"  No,  I'm  not,"  groaned  Ralph,  thinking  of  the 
rest  that  should  come  after  his  tour  of  duty. 

'•'  None  of  these  plainspeople  carry  any  meat  on 
their  bones,"  said  Spurbridge,  reasoning  by  anal- 
ogy. "  The  fat  man  doesn't  seem  to  be  indige- 
nous, and  he  doesn't  bear  transplanting." 

"  Very  pretty,  but  untrue,"  said  Ralph,  doggedly. 
"  But  getting  back  to  where  we  were  a  while  ago, 


ON  TEE  OFFENSIVE  41 

there  is  one  thing  of  profit  a  fellow  learns  during 
eight  years  of  frontier  service." 

"  Yes  ?     Well,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Not  to  talk  so  much  about  honor.  Don't  treat 
it  as  an  exotic ;  take  it  as  a  matter  of  course.  It's 
kind  of  spread-eagly  to  refer  to  it  all  the  time  ; 
sort  of  newspaperish,  too.  The  newspapers  will 
give  you  enough  of  that  if  you  ever  do  anything 
worth  while — just  as  they'll  pile  the  mud  onto  you 
if  the  luck  sets  the  other  way.  You'll  never  get  a 
just  measure  of  praise  or  of  blame ;  there  will  be 
an  excess  in  either  case." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  Spurbridge  murmured.  "  But 
honor  being  so  good  a  thing " 

"  Ah,  that's  just  it !  It  is  so  good  it  won't  stand 
talking  about.  It's  a  most  excellent  thing,  but  the 
name  of  it  has  fallen  into  a  certain  disrepute. 
The  civilian  world  has  a  way  of  saying  of  you  and 
of  me  :  '  Oh,  he's  an  army  officer.  His  sense  of 
honor  is  beyond  question.'  They  expect  an  officer 
to  be  '  honorable '  in  a  higher  degree  than  almost 
anyone  else  ;  and  so  it  isn't  exactly  good  form  for 
an  officer  to  go  about  exploiting  his  own  best  point. 
They  know  he's  got  it,  or  he  isn't  fit  to  be  an  offi- 
cer. No  ;  don't  be  surprised  that  an  officer  should 
have  honor — and,  'way  down  in  your  heart  of  inner 
consciousness,  don't  be  surprised  when  you  find 
one  without  any." 

"  You  think  I  talk  about  it  too  much  ?  "  Spur- 
bridge asked,  in  a  weakly  grieved  way. 


42  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  That's  the  only  fault  I  ever  heard  found  with 
Wallace,"  Ralph  replied,  guardedly. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  Wallace.    The  fellow  that  resigned  ?  " 
"  Yes,  he  resigned." 

They  were  silent  for  a  little  time,  watching  the 
smoke  from  their  pipes  circle  slowly  as  it  sought 
an  outlet,  and  was  tinally  drawn  wreathing  into  the 
open  fireplace  and  up  the  chimney.  AVithout,  the 
unhallowed  sounds  of  revelry  had  ceased.  The 
high  stillness  of  the  prairie  lay  upon  the  station, 
save  for  the  rhythmical  tramping  where  a  sentinel 
paced  the  length  of  the  guard-house  porch ;  and 
this,  softened  by  distance,  was  as  the  throbbing  of 
the  hush.  Then,  even  that  ceased,  and  the  listen- 
ers heard  the  clang  of  the  sentinel's  rifle  as  he 
threw  it  across  his  body  and  roared  the  hour  of  the 
night :  "  Number  One  ;  eleven  o'clock ! "  The  cry 
was  taken  up  by  the  sentinel  on  Number  Two, 
adding,  "  All's  well !  "  The  shouts  sounded  more 
and  more  distantly  as  the  remoter  sentinels  proved 
their  wakefulness.  The  last  note  of  safety  came 
like  a  bell  from  the  depths  of  night,  and  "  All's 
well !  "  shouted  Number  One,  conclusively,  resum- 
ing his  beat.  The  shouts  ringing  through  the 
darkness  and  stillness  from  these  isolated  points 
thrilled  the  hearers  strangely.  All  was  well— all 
was  well.  It  was  wonderful,  audacious,  inconceiv- 
able, this  piping  assertion  of  human  strength, 
knowledge,  and  endurance,  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
universe  of  the  unknowable. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  43 

Spurbridge  arose,  casting  off  the  spell ;  lie  did 
not  Avish  to  foster  a  liabit  of  dreamy  speculation. 
He  went  into  another  room,  and  presently  returned 
Avith  glasses  and  a  couple  of  bottles  of  cold  beer. 
Then  he  brought  in  crackers  and  pickles,  dried 
venison  and  cheese,  Ealj^h  regarded  the  prepara- 
tions appreciatively. 

"Not  much  of  a  lunch  to-night,"  said  Spur- 
bridge, apologetically.  "My  larder  isn't  extensive 
at  the  best.  However,  I  guess  this  will  do  for  a 
snack.  I  seem  to  have  an  appetite  for  just  what's 
here." 

"  That's  a  blessing,"  said  Ealph,  beaming  on  the 
spread.  "  May  you  always  want  just  what  you  can 
get !  That's  the  secret  of  content,  and  content  is 
the  secret  of  a  happy  life.  See  ?  I'm  letting  you 
have  two  secrets^  for  the  price  of  one.  Ah,  that 
beer  looks  good — the  way  it  creams  up !  Here's 
to  you ;  how  !  " 

"  How  !  "  responded  Spurbridge.  And  the  two 
drank  that  ancient  toast  of  proven  comrades.  And 
they  approached  the  lunch  after  the  manner  of 
healthy  animals  to  whom  everything  edible  is  also 
digestible. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Ralph,  suddenly,  "  there  is 
a  quality  that  seems  to  spring  from  this  of  honor, 
we've  been  talking  of.  I  mean,  simplicity.  Did 
It  ever  strike  you  that  army  officers  as  a  class  are 
childishly  simple  in  regard  to  business  affairs  '?  " 

Spurbridge's  brow  wrinkled  as  he  looked  in  the 


44  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

shallow  waters  of  his  experience  for  an  example. 
"  No,  I  hadn't  thought  of  it,  but  I  reckon  it  may 
be  so.     We  are  unfamiliar  with  such  things." 

"  Yes,  and  the  pose  of  special  probity  makes  it 
all  the  worse  for  us,"  said  Ralph,  out  of  his  wis- 
dom. "  Our  pay  isn't  anything  to  be  proud  of, 
you  kuoAv,  and  if  an  officer  has  ambition  to  start  a 
bank  account  he  Avill  get  very  tired  of  trying  to 
save  enough  out  of  his  pay  to  make  a  showing. 
He  is  more  apt  to  take  what  little  he  has  and  put 
it  into  something  that  is  boomed  enticingly — some- 
thing that  offers  special  inducements  to  army  offi- 
cers ;  that's  the  way  some  of  'em  advertise," 
Spurbridge  nodded  ;  he  had  seen  such  notices. 
"  Well,"  said  Ralph,  "it's  seldom  that  the  officer's 
bank  account  is  benefited  thereby.  He  is  a  bird 
to  be  plucked,"  he  declared,  indignantly.  "  Specu- 
lation isn't  in  his  line,  and  he'd  better  be  content 
with  his  pay.     It's  enough  to  live  on." 

"  But  officers  sometimes  resign  and  go  into  busi- 
ness," Spurbridge  said,  argumentatively.  "  Don't 
they  succeed?     Or  what  does  become  of  them?  " 

Ralph  drained  his  glass  before  he  answered. 
"  Oh,  yes,  they  resign,  and  some  of  them  make  a 
go  of  it.  Others  fail,  and  try  to  get  back  into  the 
service  with  a  loss  of  rank  and  prestige.  You  see, 
an  army  training  isn't  the  same  as  a  business  train- 
ing. The  two  lines  are  entirely  dissimilar,  and  a 
man  can't  go  from  one  to  the  other  by  simply  turn- 
ing his  hand  over." 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  45 

Spiirbridge  pondered  for  a  few  moments  on  this. 
"  I  wonder  if  you  always  held  this  view?  "  he  asked. 

"  Course  not,"  Ralph  admitted,  cheerfully.  "  I've 
come  to  it,  as  a  man  comes  to  all  his  views.  When 
he  outgrows  one  suit,  he  gets  anothey.  Why,  there 
was  a  time  when  /  thought  seriously  of  resigning ! 
That  was  when  I  didn't  know  the  army  as  well  as  I 
do  now,  and  wasn't  satisfied  with  it.  But  now  I 
think  it's  good  enough  for  me — and  I'll  live  and 
die  a  soldier,"  he  concluded,  with  a  sudden  air  of 
bravado. 

"  That  man  Wallace  —  he  gets  along,  doesn't 
he  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so.  But  then,  he's  with  his  father- 
in-law  and  can't  very  well  help  it.  Ajid  what's 
more,  he  resigned  before  the  rust  of  the  service 
had  eaten  very  far  into  his  soul.  He  had  a  dis- 
taste for  the  rut,  and  got  out  before  it  became  a 
second  nature  to  him.  He  was  not  formed,  and 
still  had  it  in  his  power  to  make  or  unmake  his 
future." 

"  Well,"  said  Spurbridge,  with  an  air  of  having 
made  a  discovery,  "it  seems  folly  to  resign. 
There's  time  enough  in  garrison  for  one  to  follow 
almost  any  line  of  study  or  research.  Duty  is  a 
small  matter  in  point  of  hours,  and  the  whole  day 
shouldn't  be  wasted.  The  pay  insures  a  living, 
and  takes  away  anxiety  on  that  score  ;  and  one  can 
even  afford  to  spend  a  little  on  some  special  branch. 
Nobody  in  the  army  seems  to  be  rich  ;  I  suppose 


46  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

if  a  man  has  money  he  prefers  to  be  where  he  can 
have  the  benefit  of  it,  and  not  hive  up  in  a  forgot- 
ten frontier  station." 

"  Ya-as,"  said  Ealph,  yawning,  "  There  are 
more  desirable  pkices  of  residence — always  are — 
than  the  place  where  you  have  to  be.  And  as  for 
improving  your  sparo  time  with  outside  concerns 
— we  are  all  worms  wriggling  on  the  fish-hooks  of 
Fate  in  the  waters  of  coming  oblivion ;  and  al- 
though many  fish  may  nibble  at  us,  Ave  can  be  the 
stomach  food  of  but  one.  But  try  it,  old  man,  try 
it.  That's  the  most  satisfying  thing  to  do,  I've 
been  there — and  come  away  again,"  He  had  risen 
from  his  chair,  and  was  girding  on  his  sword  and 
looking  for  his  cap,  "  And  now  it's  just  midnight, 
and  I'll  go  and  inspect  my  guard.  You're  a  first- 
class  hand  to  owl,  Spurbridge,  and  I'll  reciprocate 
your  kindness  whenever  you're  on  duty." 

Spurbridge  had  also  risen,  and  was  laughing  at 
Ralph's  metaphor.  "  Well,  since  we  are  worms, 
let's  wriggle  at  a  livel}'  rate,"  he  said,  "  In  that  way 
we  may  attract  the  attention  of  some  especially 
fine  fish,  and  in  dying  serve  a  lasting  purpose  of  an 
admirable  sort,  I  believe  I'll  go  and  look  at  the 
guard  with  you," 

"  Come  along,  then ;  it's  a  fine  night,"  Ralph 
said,  gladly.  He  survej'ed  the  crumbs  of  the  feast. 
"Do  you  know,"  said  he,  "that  little  lunch  re- 
minds me  of  the  poker  parties  Ave  had  one  Avinter, 
Avhen  I  Avas  learniui^  the  "aine  ?  " 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  47 

"  How  was  that  ?  " 

"  Some  man,  when  officer  of  the  day,  asked  the 
fellows  to  come  round  and  keep  him  awake  till 
midnight,  and  play  penny-ante.  We  had  a  pleas- 
ant evening.  Then  we  got  in  the  way  of  adding  a 
little  lunch — something  like  yours  to-night.  Pres- 
ently the  lunch  became  more  elaborate.  Then  the 
limit  of  the  game  was  raised  to  keep  ujd  the  excite- 
ment. So  it  went  till  the  lunch  became  a  collation, 
and  the  game  was  so  heavy  that  the  married  men 
didn't  dare  to  come  in  on  account  of  their  wives  ; 
the  affair  became  too  expensive,  and  the  whole 
thing  dropped.  After  the  limit  of  competitive  ex- 
travagance was  reached,  no  one  dared  go  back  to 
the  primitive  cracker- and-beer,  penny-ante,  enter- 
tainment."    Ralph  laughed  at  the  recollection. 

"  Well,  what  do  we  argue  from  this  ?  "  asked 
Spurbridge. 

"  Oh,  the  moral?  Well,  hcec  fabida  docet  quan^ 
turn  bonum  may  be  in  a  rational  enjoyment  of  good 
things.  Avoid  excesses.  Through  the  ambition 
of  my  brother-officers — and  of  myself — I  made  a 
large  outlay  at  cards  from  which  I  have  received 
no  adequate  return,  and  also  acquired  a  touch  of 
dyspei^sia.     Leave  competition  alone." 

"  It's  the  life  of  trade." 

"  Wrong.     It's  the  death  of  it." 

Spurbridge  stood  aghast.  "  You're  not  going 
back  on  all  the  platitudes,  are  you'?"  he  de- 
manded. 


48  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

Ralph  waved  bis  arm  fleeringly.  "  Most  of  them 
have  served  their  time  and  should  be  retired. 
They  should  have  gone  out  with  Fourth  of  July 
oratory.  We  have  no  orators  nowadays,  and 
platitudes  fall  pretty  flat  in  print.  They  make  me 
tired." 

Spurbridge  looked  at  him  with  a  touch  of  aston- 
ishment that  made  Ralph  chuckle  in  his  throat. 
"  You're  a  queer  fellow !  "  he  said.  "  Are  your 
views  generally  accepted  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  not,"  said  Ralph,  with  a  satisfaction 
Spurbridge  could  not  comprehend. 

"  Then  why  do  you  hold  to  them '?  "  he  de- 
manded, strong  with  the  strength  of  popular  theo- 
ries. 

"Why?  "  said  Ralph;  "  perhaps  that's  one  good 
reason." 

They  stepped  out  upon  the  parade,  and  the  vel- 
vet blackness  of  the  night  was  against  their  faces. 
The  stars,  like  rivet  heads  of  burnished  steel  on 
the  dusk  armor-plates  of  heaven,  sent  single  spears 
of  bluish  light  piercing  through  the  darkness  to 
the  earth.  Down  the  line,  the  individual  feat- 
ures of  the  houses  sank  into  each  other,  and 
across  the  parade  where  barracks  stood,  only  a 
long,  unbroken  line  of  intenser  blackness  was  dis- 
cernible. At  the  very  end  stood  the  guard-house, 
and  lights  shone  there.  The  two  men  made  their 
way   toward    them    across   the   parade,    stepping 


Oy    THE   OFFEN!<IVE  49 

freely  ;  it  was  as  familiar  to  them  as  tlie  floor 
of  quarters.  Suddenly  the  watchfvil  sentinel 
hoarsely  challenged  them.  Kalph  answered ;  the 
sleepy  men  of  the  reliefs  off  post  tumbled  out  of 
doors,  fell  into  line,  and  were  cursorily  inspected. 
Ealph  went  within,  and  looked  through  the  grat- 
ings at  the  prisoners,  lying  on  the  floor  in  slumber. 
Then  he  rejoined  Spurbridge,  who  had  halted  be- 
yond the  lighted  circle,  and  went  around  the  beats 
of  the  sentinels. 

"  I  always  inspect  at  midnight,"  said  Spurbridge, 
as  they  went.  "The  guard  is  expecting  you  at 
that  hour,  and  there  are  fewer  of  the  men  asleep. 
If  I  were  eflicient  to  the  point  of  crankiness,  I 
suppose  I  should  come  out  at  any  hour  between 
midnight  and  reVeille,  and  so  keep  the  guard  on 
tenterhooks,  and  make  the  tour  as  hard  for  them 
as  I  could." 

"  You  would  be  no  more  eflicient  for  that,"  said 
Ralph,  "  for  the  men  would  hate  you  and  not  be 
as  good  soldiers  under  you."  In  the  eight  years  of 
his  service  he  had  learned  something  besides  the 
infliction  of  discipline  ;  he  had  learned  to  amelio- 
rate it. 

They  went  by  all  the  hidden  lanes  and  back 
ways  of  the  station,  seeking  out  the  sentinels  who 
were  posted  wherever  there  was  stealable  property. 
Here  and  there  a  lamp  flickered  as  it  drank  the 
dregs  of  its  oil,  and  cast  a  small  square  of  yellow 
light  on  their  pathway.  Overhead,  the  stars  were 
4 


50  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

shining  with  the  unflinching  intensity  of  eyes  that 
had  looked  upon  all  time,  would  endure  to  all  eter- 
nity. There  was  strength  and  serenity  in  their 
lighting,  Spurbridge,  looking  up  at  them  for  an 
instant,  was  impressed  by  their  untemporal  qualit3\ 
He  was  earthly ;  they  were  beyond  him.  But 
there  were  men  more  conversant  with  spiritual 
things  than  he. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  a  man  like  Father  Bru- 
gan  sees  in  the  stars  ?  " 

Kalph  was  silent  a  moment  before  he  ventured 
any  reply,  and  then  he  prefaced  it  with  an  unplea- 
sant laugh.  "What  do  you  suppose  he  sees  in 
those  other  stars,  the  eyes  of  Miss  Lydia  Ger- 
rish  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Good  heavens,  Ralph  !  "  exclaimed  Spurbridge. 
"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing." 

"  Why,  he  is  a  priest ! "  continued  Spurbridge. 

"  Primarily,  he  is  a  man,"  returned  Ralph,  as 
though  that  was  decisive. 

"  But  think  of  his  life,  his  education !  " 

"Oh,  pshaw!"  Ralph  burst  forth.  "What's 
education  !  I  thought  we  settled  that  once."  And 
then  he  added  to  himself,  thoughtfully,  "I  don't 
suppose  he  can  help  it,  any  more  than  another." 

Spurbridge  was  without  experience,  but  he  had 
sense  sufficient  to  take  no  notice  of  this  remark. 


Ill 


It  might  have  been  a  month  later  that  Ealph 
one  day  forcibly  drew  Spur  bridge  from  an  ancient 
text-book  on  electrics  that  had  been  dug  from 
among  the  forgotten  volumes  of  the  post  library, 
and  said  to  him  : 

"  How  should  you  like  to  take  a  hunting  trip 
with  me  ?  " 

Spurbridge  looked  up  at  him  -with  sparkling 
eyes.  "  There  is  no  question  of  '  how,'  "  said  he, 
"  except  of  how  soon  we  can  do  it.  You  think  the 
colonel  will  let  us  go  ?  " 

"  Dead  sure,"  Ralph  replied.  "  It's  the  middle 
of  November  now,  and  there's  so  little  to  be  done 
in  garrison  that  we're  not  needed.  If  we  go  out 
for  twenty  days  and  bring  back  a  wagon  load  of 
deer  and  turkey  and  one  thing  or  another,  the 
whole  garrison  will  take  it  as  a  delicate  attention. 
I  have  often  noticed  that  a  haunch  of  venison  is 
quite  acceptable,  even  to  those  who  have  no  taste 
for  the  hunt." 

"  What  shall  we  need  for  equipment  ?  "  Spur- 
bridge  asked.  For  he  was  theoretical  rather  than 
practical  in  all  matters  relating  to  the  field. 


52  ON  THE   OFFENSIVE 

"  A  six-mule  Avagon  and  the  buckboard,  a  Sibley 
and  a  wall-tent,  rifles  and  cartridges  galore,  and 
seven  or  eight  good  men  picked  from  your  com- 
pany and  mine  ;  a  double  allowance  of  blankets, 
and  a  few  trifling  attentions  to  the  commissariat. 
Do  you  like  the  outlook?  " 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  said  Spurbridge,  warmly.  "  I'm 
stupid,  cooped  up  as  I  have  been  in  garrison. 
Let's  get  off  soon  as  we  can." 

There  proved  no  insuperable  obstacles  to  the 
trip.  Indeed,  the  applications  for  leave  went 
through  with  such  celerity  that  there  seemed  a 
possibility  of  the  colonel  being  in  a  hurry  for  his 
venison.  As  a  fact,  being  a  soldier  of  consider- 
able acumen,  he  was  gratified  that  his  young  offi- 
cers should  desire  to  get  out  of  the  post  and  rough 
it  a  little,  even  in  a  peaceful  sort  of  way.  Spur- 
bridge, being  new,  had  no  knowledge  of  plainscraft 
or  the  features  of  the  country.  He  could  not  fail 
to  be  made  a  better  soldier  by  the  trip,  and  more- 
over, Ralph  was  an  excellent  instructor  in  these 
matters  of  the  camp.  As  for  Ralph  himself.  Col- 
onel Gerrish  had  talked  with  his  cajotain,  Lyndon, 
and  they  had  decided  between  them  that  it  would 
be  a  saving  grace  to  get  him  away  from  the  asso- 
ciations of  the  town  and  saloon  for  a  little  wliile. 
He  was  inclined  to  run  recklessly  wild,  and  Colonel 
Gerrish,  who  understood  and  appreciated  his  sol- 
dierly qualities,  had  no  desire  to  see  him  run  un- 
checked to  the  verge  of  a  court-martial.     So  Cap- 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  53 

tain  Lyndon  had  cleverly  suggested  the  trip  to 
Ealph  as  a  means  of  education  for  Spurbridge,  in 
whom,  he  said,  Ealph  appeared  to  take  an  inter- 
est. Ralph  responded  pleasantly  after  a  character- 
istic fling  about  his  own  need  for  a  change  of 
scene,  and  sought  out  Spurbridge.  And  their 
preparations  proceeded  as  expeditiously  as  though 
they  had  received  an  imperative  order  to  take  the 
field  without  loss  of  time. 

How  they  dwelt  upon  those  preparations  —  so 
careful,  thoughtful,  happily  anticipative !  Will 
Spurbridge  ever  forget  the  hurried  trips  to  the 
little  town  where  together  they  chose  fishing-tackle 
on  the  bare  chance  of  catfish  and  bass  in  the  pools 
of  some  stream  they  might  pass  ?  Or  the  evening 
hours  when  they  loaded  shells,  and  in  thought 
brought  down  all  manner  of  desirable  fowl  with 
unfailing  accui'acy  of  aim  ?  The  quick  purchase 
of  rough  clothing,  and  the  imperative  demands 
on  the  commissary  for  canned  vegetables  and  milk, 
for  bacon,  coffee,  onions.     .     .     . 

Never  to  be  forgotten.  The  events  passed 
quickly  before  his  impressionable  mind.  In  his 
smiling  state  the  comments  of  the  garrison  were 
like  congratulations.  He  was  a  fortunate  man. 
And  when  the  bright  morning  of  departure  came, 
and  they  whirled  out  of  the  post  behind  the  pep- 
perish  buckboard  mules  in  a  translucent  cloud  of 
golden  dust  of  their  own  raising,  while  happy 
good-byes   and   wishes    were   waved  from   every 


54  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

porch  ou  the  line,  he  lost  all  sense  of  the  per- 
spective of  life  and  felt  that  he  had  come  thus  far 
through  the  world  solely  to  enjoy  this  bliss.  It 
was  so  great  that,  being  in  the  plane  of  the  pres- 
ent, it  shut  off  his  view.  It  would  not  be  until 
later,  when  he  should  be  able  to  look  back  upon 
it,  that  he  would  discover  in  it  but  one  of  the  fleet- 
ing incidents  of  that  broader  and  higher  journey 
upon  which  he  was  perforce  engaged. 

There  had  been  short  tramps,  and  even  extended 
fishing  trips,  about  the  Fort  before,  but  nothing 
that  approximated  to  the  importance  of  this.  So 
it  was  that  the  whole  became  charming  in  its  nov- 
elty, and  Spurbridge  found  a  delight  as  of  newness 
even  in  the  bits  of  country  with  which  he  was 
familiar,  and  over  which  they  passed  the  first  day. 
There  was  the  occasional  glimpse  of  the  creek,  like 
silver  in  the  sun,  but  which  he  knew  a  closer  view 
would  betray  in  its  slate  and  brown  dulness  ;  the 
gentle  sweep  of  the  prairie,  having  limitless  ex- 
tent in  which  to  complete  its  pre-determined  bil- 
low and  to  return  to  itself  again — as  though  God 
had  set  no  bounds  to  its  broadness ;  the  red  and 
yellow  of  the  bare  earth  where  fierce  rains  had 
worn  deep  cuts  and  winding  channels ;  the  sternly 
simple  outlines  of  mesa  after  mesa,  bearing  on 
their  heads  but  a  repetition  of  the  levels  from 
which  they  rose ;  the  low,  thorny  bush  of  the 
prairie,  ornamented  here  and  there  with  a  sj^ring- 
ing   cactus,  rising   in  distance   to  the  dignity   of 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  55 

mesquite  that  jingled  its  seed-pods  against  bare 
twigs  in  the  November  wind — and  in  a  still  more 
remote  rank,  by  the  creek's  course,  rising  yet 
higher  to  the  majesty  of  doubtful  cottonwoods, 
yellowed  pecans,  and  dark  green,  restful  live  oaks. 

Of  what  a  pearly  tint  was  the  sky — that  blue  sky, 
hanging  in  a  dome  so  far  above  them  !  It  was  un- 
conscious of  the  fresh  breeze  that  blew  upon  the 
cheek  of  the  prairie,  imparting  a  weather-worn 
ruddiness.  Occasionally,  as  though  dropping  from 
the  unsounded  vault  of  it,  a  bird  would  spread  its 
tranquil  pinions  into  sight ;  others,  distinctly  earthy 
in  their  aspirations,  skimmed  the  lower  ether  with 
a  motive — ducks,  swiftly  winging  along  the  course 
of  the  creek  with  an  eye  to  choice  feeding  grounds ; 
hawks,  circling  tirelessly  far  above  the  red-brown 
herbage  of  the  land  till  they  should  sj^y  some  weak, 
defenceless  creature,  and  then  like  a  flash  descend- 
ing upon  it,  fiercely  relentless,  bear  it  away  to  a 
red  feast.  Spurbridge's  young  heart  was  torn  with 
pity  for  the  terrified  small  beasts  so  captured,  and 
his  hand  sought  his  gun  that  he  might  put  an  end 
to  the  predatory  bird.  But  then  he  desisted,  for 
even  they  did  seek  their  meat  of  God. 

The  driver  flicked  the  mouse-colored  mules  with 
the  whip  as  a  caution  not  to  be  weary  in  well  doing. 
They  merely  whisked  their  tufted  tails  and  paid  no 
further  attention  ;  the  gait  was  satisfactory,  and 
they  knew  it.  They  passed  a  steep  hillside  where 
the  thin  soil  had  washed  down,  leaving  the  color- 


56  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

ing  of  yellows  exposed  in  brilliancy.  The  same 
color  lay  on  pools  of  water  like  oil.  "  Bog  iron  ore 
—2  Fe.,033  H„0  " — said  Spurbridge,  nodding  at  it 
in  qnick  recollection  of  liis  laboratory  days  at  West 
Point.  "  Great  Scott !  haven't  you  forgotten  that 
yet?"  asked  Ralph.  And  then  both  laughed,  for 
both  were  free  and  happy,  and  were  riding  away 
from  care.  It  is  only  at  such  times  that  the  ran- 
dom recollection  of  old  perplexities  renders  them 
enjoyable. 

The  mules  trotted  docilely  onward,  and  the 
wheels  rolled  smoothly  over  a  road  from  which  the 
turf  was  scarcely  worn.  No. more  dust  arose  as  a 
pillar  to  mark  their  progress.  The  road  became  a 
track,  and  then  a  trail,  and  led  them  between  two 
high  and  rugged  cliffs,  through  Apache  Pass. 
There  had  been  good,  vigorous  human  blood  on 
the  ground  beneath  their  wheels  many  a  time  in 
the  past,  but  it  had  dried  in  the  sun  or  sunk  deep 
into  the  earth,  and  not  even  a  bluebell  blossomed 
to  mark  the  place.  It  was  rather  as  though  a  blight 
had  fallen  on  this,  a  favorite  ambush  spot  of  the 
Apaches  in  the  days  when  stages  travelled  the  long 
route  of  the  thirty-second  parallel.  Even  at  the 
time  when  Ralph  and  Spurbridge  rode  by  in  care- 
less security,  it  would  have  been  possible  to  pick  up 
there  a  slivered  bone  from  which  a  skilled  anato- 
mist would  have  reconstructed  you  a  human  skele- 
ton. 

Then  they  rattled  echoingly  through  the  gorge 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  67 

over  the  cracked  fragments  of  rock  that  bestrewed 
it,  and  conquered  the  hill  beyond.  From  its  sum- 
mit they  looked  away  over  a  very  basin  of  brown 
herbage,  marked  through  and  through  at  intervals 
with  finely  drawn  lines  of  wire  fence,  stretching  off 
into  perspectives  of  marvellous  length.  Far  in  the 
depth  of  the  view,  were  live  oaks  ;  and  Ralph,  point- 
ing them  out,  clapped  Spurbridge  on  the  shoulder. 

"  That's  where  we  make  the  first  camp !  "  he  an- 
nounced, in  glee.  It  was  as  though  he  anticipated 
finding  a  quarter-section  of  Paradise  staked  out 
there,  to  which  he  should  be  free  and  welcome. 

Spurbridge  looked  forward  to  the  place  with 
more  than  common  interest,  and  when  they  reached 
it  he  jumped  from  the  buckboard  and  stretched  his 
legs  in  a  quick  turn  about  the  selected  ground. 
It  was  a  httle  grove  of  live  oaks  from  which  the 
encroaching  undergrowth  was  kept  clear  by  a  swift 
succession  of  camping  parties.  It  was  twenty-three 
miles  from  the  Fort,  and  was  always  the  first  camp 
for  parties  going  out,  the  last  for  those  coming  in. 
A  small  tributary  creek  flowed  by,  giving  water 
for  the  animals  ;  and  in  the  depth  of  the  grove 
was  a  cold  spring  of  the  clearest,  purest  water, 
made  famous  through  all  the  land  by  the  plains- 
people.  For  the  baked,  solid  earth  was  like  a  rock 
and  there  were  none  to  smite  it  with  a  rod  ;  so  that 
infrequent  springs  were  known  and  named  and  re- 
garded as  oases  on  a  desert  trail. 

There  was  a  grim  old  sergeant  to  exercise  imme- 


58  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

diate  supervision  of  the  party  ;  for  discipline  was 
relaxed  and  the  expedition  was  military  only  in 
equipment.  The  officers  would  hunt,  not  govern. 
And  there  was  a  spruce  young  corporal  who  had 
gotten  his  chevrons  because  he  wrote  a  clear,  round 
hand,  was  temperate,  and  presented  always  a  neat, 
clerky  appearance.  In  his  short  experience  he  had 
never  been  off  the  military  reservation,  and  sleep- 
ing on  the  ground  with  only  a  blanket  'twixt  him 
and  the  stars  was  a  novelty.  And  there  was  Kil- 
leen  to  drive  the  buckboard,  and  Robinson  for  the 
six-mule  team.  And  Gavin,  who  had  satisfactor- 
ily served  his  apprenticeship  in  the  company 
kitchen,  was  there  to  cook  for  the  entire  party. 
And  for  the  rest,  they  were  just  men  of  common 
abilities.  They  would  pitch  and  lower  tents,  bring 
water  for  the  cook,  gather  dry  wood  for  the  fires, 
smoke  their  pipes,  crack  their  rough  jokes,  and 
carry  a  gun  over  some  square  miles  of  territory 
daily  in  an  unremitting  search  for  game.  They 
were  good  shots,  but  that  was  nothing  unusual ; 
being  soldiers,  the  rifle  was  to  be  supposed  an 
intimate  friend.  And  they  made  to  one  another  a 
twofold  promise :  to  speedily  eat  all  the  bacon  in 
sight,  and  to  supply  in  its  place  more  venison  than 
would  suffice  for  a  regiment. 

With  the  eagerness  of  schoolboys  to  be  about  the 
businesses  of  their  lives,  Ralph  and  Spurbridge 
took  fowling  pieces  and  waded  through  the  adjoin- 
ing thickets  of  scrub  and  undergroAvth.     They  were 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  59 

rewarded  with  a  few  quail,  just  enougli  to  give 
their  supper  a  fiavor  of  the  uncivilized — that  tow- 
ard which  they  were  so  gladly  tending.  And  after 
that  came  pipes  during  the  quick  descent  of  night, 
while  the  mules  inclined  their  long  ears  for  the 
conversation  of  their  human  companions  by  the 
camp-fire,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  the  confused 
mingling  of  nature's  whispering  voices — the  chirp 
of  a  belated  bird,  the  rustling  of  leaves  and  rub- 
bing of  long  grasses,  the  wimple  of  flowing  water ; 
while  overhead  the  stars  burned  with  as  gentle  and 
velvety  a  light  as  the  coals  of  the  dying  camp-fire. 
They  came  nearer  to  one  here  than  in  the  Fort, 
where  the  little  cluster  of  houses  created  a  repell- 
ent atmosphere  ;  and  yet  they  were  sufiiciently  far 
away  to  retain  the  dignity  of  their  eternal  being. 
They  were  familiar  with  nature,  but  not  with  men. 
They  even  looked  at  themselves  with  satisfaction 
in  the  still  pools,  and  allowed  the  little  dancing  rip- 
ples in  swift  water  to  cover  themselves  with  the 
quicksilver  of  broken  rays  of  light ;  but  this  was 
not  for  the  eyes  of  men. 

And  when  the  pipes  were  smoked  out  and  the 
last  whiff  of  their  fragrance  had  been  dissipated  on 
the  soft  breath  of  evening,  each  man  rolled  himself 
in  his  blanket  alongside  his  chosen  chum  and  slept. 
That  was  what  it  was  to  be  healthy,  vigorous  ani- 
mals without  a  care,  free  to  enjoy  the  holiday  in  a 
hearty  way  that  would  rejoice  in  physical  fatigue 
for  the  sake  of  the  succeeding  pleasant  recupera- 


60  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

tion.  All  tilings  that  came  to  tliem  were  good ; 
and  if  they  accepted  them  with  no  conscious  thanks- 
giving, it  was  because  they  were  as  other  animals 
and  revelled  in  the  harmony  of  consecutive  grains 
of  star  dust  without  troubling  themselves  about  the 
why  and  wherefore. 

But  the  early  bed  hour  did  not  make  the  night 
long.  With  the  first  suspicion  of  lighting  in  the 
gray  east,  Killeen  and  Robinson  were  up,  measur- 
ing out  grain  to  their  capricious  charges.  Gavin 
blew  up  the  ashes  of  the  night  before  in  a  search 
for  coals,  and  having  found  some,  put  on  fine  splint- 
ers and  made  a  blaze.  In  a  wonderfully  short 
time  he  had  coffee  ready  for  the  quart  cups,  with 
fried  bacon  and  hot  camp  bread.  Kalph  was  happy 
to  find  he  could  take  such  unrefined  food  without 
internal  rebellion.  Spurbridge  devoured  it  un- 
thinkingly ;  it  was  good.  And  then  the  mules 
were  discovered  hitched  to  the  wagon  and  buck- 
board  ;  the  blankets  were  rolled  and  strapped  ;  the 
tents — they  had  not  been  used — were  stowed  in  ; 
and  so,  with  all  the  equipage  in  shape,  the  ser- 
geant saluted  Ralph  and  announced  : 

"  All  is  ready,  sir  !  " 

"  Yery  well ;  let  us  start." 

"Forward!  March!"  roared  the  sergeant,  in- 
ured by  service  to  the  form  of  command  and  unable 
to  ]nake  a  move  without  it. 

Then  the  little  procession  issued  from  its  covert 
just   as  the   yet  hidden  sun  shot  up  a  ray  that 


02{  THE  OFFENSIVE  61 

painted  with  orange  the  under  side  of  a  cloud,  an- 
nouncing that  he  was  of  a  cheerful  disposition  and 
would  be  with  them  soon  uj)on  the  road.  Very 
good  comjDauy  was  the  sun  and  very  welcome  ;  for 
the  November  morning  had  enough  chilliness  to 
make  the  men  step  about  crisply,  or  hang  with 
unsurpassed  devotion  on  the  windward  side  of  the 
fire.  And  he  came  over  the  hill  in  his  haste  and 
met  them  half-Avay  up  the  ascent  they  climbed  from 
the  wood. 

Tliree  days  they  travelled  thus  to  the  south  and 
east,  seeing  perhaj)s  three  habitations  in  that  time. 
Kalph  grumbled  regretfully.  "  The  country's  get- 
ting too  settled.  We  must  go  farther  awa}',  out 
into  the  section  from  fence  and  farmer  free.  This 
will  never  do."  The  old  sergeant  saluted  in  defer- 
ential acquiescence.  "  Forward  !  "  he  roared  each 
morning  and  the  buckboard  would  whisk  lightly 
away,  while  the  six  tall  mules  lumbered  after  with 
the  big  blue  wagon.  They  made  twenty  or  twenty- 
five  miles  each  day,  and  camped  at  night  by  the 
creek,  from  Avhich  they  drew  a  few  fine  fish.  The 
days  were  usually  fair  and  the  nights  clear  ;  but 
occasionally  the  heavens  hung  low  and  dark,  and 
rain  showers  came  whistling  on  the  sharp  gusts. 
It  was  all  one  to  the  party  ;  they  had  invited  them- 
selves to  pot-luck  with  nature. 

The  country  was  bare  save  for  sagebrush  and 
scrubby,  nondescript  things  that  cowered  close  to 
the  earth — natural   skulkers,   afraid  to  attain  re- 


62  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

spectable  stature,  but  ever  holding  forth  hooked 
thorns  and  claws  to  the  injury  of  clothing  and  the 
irritation  of  hapless  flesh.  Sometimes  the  road 
led  through  thickets  so  dense  that  thoughts  of  am- 
bush clung  to  the  mind  ;  and  again,  it  descended 
into  ravines  with  banks  so  high  and  steej)  that 
ro^ies  were  fastened  to  the  up-hill  side  of  the 
wagon,  and  the  whole  party  surged  on  them  to  pre- 
vent capsizing.  Then  up  the  other  side,  where  stop- 
ping meant  disaster,  and  they  chorused  anathe- 
mas upon  the  affrighted  ears  of  the  struggling 
mules,  urging  them  to  the  top ;  a  stop  for  breath, 
and  then  on  again  to  the  place  Ralph  had  selected 
for  the  camp.  These  were  days  of  satisfaction, 
because  of  their  untrammelled  quality ;  but  they 
were  also  days  of  suspense,  for  no  game  had  been 
shot,  or  even  sighted,  and  apparently  they  might 
follow  the  road  forever,  and  meet  no  change. 
They  had  not  gone  into  the  wilderness  for  this. 

On  the  third  day  they  reached  the  head  of  the 
creek.  Here  was  the  ruin  of  an  old-time  stage 
ranch — a  one-story  building  of  limestone,  walls 
very  thick,  windows  merely  narrow  slits.  The 
roof  was  broken  in,  and  the  flooring  had  gone  to 
feed  camp-fires.  But  the  outer  walls  presented 
marks  of  interest  for  one  so  unaccustomed  as 
Spurbridge.  His  joy  Avas  that  of  an  explorer,  and 
when  he  discovered  on  the  stone  sundry  leaden 
smearings,  he  called  Ralph's  attention  to  them 
with  such  a  thrill  along  his  veins  as  one  feels  upon 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  63 

an  old  battle-field  ;  the  horrors  had  departed,  but 
the  atmosphere  created  by  conflict  still  remained. 

"  Those  are  marks  of  bullets.  The  place  has 
stood  more  than  one  fierce  siege,"  he  said.  He 
rubbed  his  fingers  almost  lovingly  over  the  old 
scars.  Deej)  in  his  heart  he  wished  he  might 
have  stood  among  the  defenders  on  that  past  day, 
disregarding  savage  yells  of  fury  and  rattling  thud 
of  bullets  in  the  raging  joy  of  conflict.  But  he 
did  not  venture  to  expose  this  sentiment  to  Ralph, 
who  stood  looking  calmly  at  the  shots,  and  even 
scaling  oflf  a  little  adhering  lead  with  the  blade  of 
his  knife. 

"  Yes,  they  are  marks  of  bullets,  sure  enough," 
he  said  at  length.  "  So  are  these."  He  stejjped 
off  a  few  paces  and  fired  his  revolver  twice  against 
the  wall.  "See  any  diflerence  in  them?"  he 
asked. 

"No,"  said  Spin-bridge,  after  a  minute  examina- 
tion; "they're  just  like  the  others."  He  looked 
up  with  a  calm  air  of  comprehension.  "  I  sup- 
pose you  will  tell  me  to  spare  my  thoughts  of  a 
siege — that  these  shots  have  all  been  fired  by 
practical  jokers ;  won't  you  ?  " 

"Not  so  bad  as  that,"  said  Ralph,  relenting  of 
half  his  purpose.  "I  have  been  here  at  odd  times 
during  the  past  eight  years,  and  I  assure  you  that 
I  looked  for  bullet-marks  at  first,  just  as  you  have 
to-day.  The  only  difference  is,  my  search  was  not 
so  abundantly  rewarded  as  yours." 


G4  OiV  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  And  perhaps  you  made  a  few  marks  tlien,  as 
now  ?  "  suggested  Spurbridge. 

Ralpli  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Well,  was  not 
that  a  delicate  attention  toward  future  travellers? 
I  knew  exactly  the  interest  they  would  take  in  the 
spot.  To  be  sure,  but  few  people  pass  this  way ; 
but  just  think  of  the  clergyman  who  dies  rejoicing 
in  the  belief  that  he,  has  saved  even  one  sinner !  " 

Spurbridge  turned  his  attention  to  the  sky  and 
whistled  softly,  as  though  in  disapproval. 

"  I  don't  want  to  outclass  myself,"  Ralph  hastily 
added.  "  Perhaps  you  will  think  there's  mighty 
little  resemblance  between  any  clergyman  and  me, 
but  let  me  tell  you  we  both  mean  all  right.  And 
now  I'll  shoAv  you  just  what  I  did  find." 

He  led  the  way  through  a  tangle  of  bushes  to  a 
doorway  that  gave  upon  the  north.  "  The  corral 
was  over  there,"  he  said,  indicating  a  level  space 
before  them.  "  This  door  led  to  it.  These  splin- 
tered holes  in  the  casing  were  never  made  by  re- 
volver bullets  ;  they  came  from  old  fifty  bores. 
And  these  blotches  where  lead  has  been  and  has 
fallen  off,  leaving  a  blue  mould  behind — these 
were  made  when  gentlemen  like  ourselves  were 
nof  firing  guns  for  fun.  They  stand  for  profes- 
sional attainments.  And  once,  as  the  records 
show,  this  ranch  was  attacked  by  Apaches  who 
got  into  the  corral,  stampeded  the  horses,  and  as 
this  door  was  opened  that  the  corral  hands  might 
rush  out,   fired  in,  killing  the  defenders.      They 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  66 

euded  by  looting  the  place.  Had  we  been  here  then 
we  Avouldn't  be  talking  of  it  so  calmly  in  the  flesh 
now.    We  would  be  serving  with  that  big  army — 

'  Who  lie,  neglected,  far  away 
From  BeDDj  Havens,  O  !  '  " 

He  droned  out  the  lines  to  the  tune  of  that  tra- 
ditional army  song,  and  abruptly  walked  away 
from  the  place.  "  Makes  me  feel  gooberish!  "  he 
declared,  with  a  shiver. 

Spurbridge  followed  with  a  strange  mixture  of 
elation  and  depression  in  his  Keart.  He  was  long- 
ing for  experiences,  being  young  and  unbuffeted. 
"  The  best  of  army  life  on  the  plains  seems  to  be 
done  away  with,"  he  complained.  "  The  stages 
are  gone,  the  Indians  are  herded  on  to  reserva- 
tions, and  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  sit  idle 
where  once  w^ere  stirring  times.  I  feel  as  if  I  had 
come  on  the  stage  after  the  play  was  over,  and  the 
lights  were  out,  and  the  actors  had  gone  home  for 
the  night." 

"  So  ? "  remarked  Ralph,  elevating  his  eye- 
brows at  him.  "  But  while  the  play  is  on,  there 
is  more  fun  down  in  front.  And  when  you  read 
the  newspaper  criticisms  of  the  performance  you 
may  be  glad  you  didn't  have  a  part  yourself." 

"  Oh,  I  know  that,"  Spurbridge  hastened  to  say. 
"  It  isn't  for  pleasure,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  ex- 
perience, that  I  want  it." 

''Well,"  said  Ealpli,  reflectively,  "after  all,  it  is 


60  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

the  confectionery  of  soldiering.  It  has  unpleas- 
ant features — but  it's  what  we  live  for  !  " 

"  I  believe  you,"  Spurbridge  assented,  "  and 
that's  why  I  feel  so  useless  to  be  sitting  in  garri- 
son, theorizing,  or  even  drilling  a  stray  set  of 
fours." 

"  Well,  you're  not  lagging  superfluous,"  Ealj^h 
told  him,  reassuringly.  "  There's  always  a  chance, 
and  a  pretty  good  one  is  brewing  now,  I'm  told, 
up  at  the  agency.  Funny  idea,  to  have  an  agency 
and  no  troops  in  force  within  six  days  march  of 
it !  But  that's  the  trader's  idea  ;  he  don't  want  to 
be  interfered  with." 

"  What  have  you  heard  ?  "  SiDurbridge  asked, 
with  quick  interest. 

"  Nothing  official ;  that's  why  I  put  any  faith  in 
it.  The  bucks  are  getting  insolent,  and  they  are 
too  well  armed  for  any  peaceful  purpose.  The 
trader  has  been  selling  'em  guns  and  cartridges  as 
freely  as  though  there  was  nothing  to  fear.  He 
makes  a  pot  of  money  out  of  it,  and  that's  all  he 
or  any  other  Indian  trader  cares.  They  don't 
concern  themselves  about  the  troops  who  come 
after  and  get  the  benefit  of  the  ammunition." 

There  was  a  cold,  angry  light  in  his  eyes  as  he 
spoke,  but  Spurbridge  was  so  exultant  he  did  not 
notice  it.  For  himself,  he  was  almost  ready  to 
thank  the  trader,  he  so  longed  to  fulfil  the  purpose 
of  his  being.  Ealpli  knew  better ;  he  had  seen 
some  Indian  warfare,  and  understood  the  matter. 


ox  THE  OFFENSIVE  67 

"  We  wou't  hear  anything  official  before  the 
spring,"  Ralph  con  tinned.  "  They  won't  go  on 
the  Avarpath  before  settled  weather  again,  and  that 
will  snit  the  official  gait.  Perhaps  they  won't, 
even  then,  bnt  I  shall  get  my  feet  in  marching 
shape  jnst  as  though  I  had  already  received  or- 
ders." 

They  crossed  the  trickling  stream  to  the  camp, 
that  had  been  established  on  the  higher  bank  of 
the  opposite  side.  "  Never  pitch  camp  on  the  nigh 
side  of  a  stream,"  Ralph  had  laid  down  to  Spur- 
bridge  as  an  axiom,  "  Always  cross  at  once,  if 
you've  got  to  cross.  There's  nothing  likelier  than 
a  cloudburst  in  the  mountains,  and  then  you  can't 
get  over  for  days.  Likewise,  camp  on  high  ground, 
so  you  may  not  be  swept  away  in  the  rise." 

The  strength  of  the  party  had  been  occupied 
since  their  arrival  in  soaking  water-kegs  that  had 
been  but  ballast  thus  far,  and  in  filling  them  from 
the  stream  ;  for  this  was  the  last  running  water 
they  would  find  in  a  long,  weary  stretch  of  coun- 
try. Here  again  was  something  new  for  Spur- 
bridge.  He  anticipated  the  many  dry  camps  now 
to  be  made  with  pleasure,  and  looked  forward  with 
satisfaction  to  days  when  water  would  be  doled  out 
in  small  measures.  There  was  a  suggestion  of 
hardship  in  the  thought,  and  he  sprang  to  grasp  it. 

The  next  morning  they  turned  abruptly  away 
from  the  valley  of  the  watercourse,  and  began  to 
climb  the  gentle,  interminable  ascent.     Mesquite 


G8  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

of  large  growth  stood  about  their  way.  As  they 
left  it  slowly  behind  they  entered  on  a  region  cov- 
ered with  thick  brown  grass,  with  here  and  there 
close  tangles  of  reddish  scrubby  bushes.  Climb- 
ing one  swell  after  another,  they  mounted  ever 
higher  and  higher,  until  at  last  they  had  left  be- 
hind them  every  reminder  of  civilization.  No  wire 
fences  barred  the  road,  or  ran  parallel  with  it  to 
the  extreme  of  sight.  It  was  the  free  range  they 
had  entered  upon — free  as  God  made  it  in  the 
right  of  animals  that  run  and  browse ;  man  had 
set  no  stamp  upon  it,  made  no  selfish  claim.  Wave 
upon  wave  of  land  lay  about  them,  billowing  away 
beyond  the  horizon,  so  that  no  matter  what  knoll 
they  climbed  to  look  abroad,  they  seemed  always 
at  the  bottom  of  an  immense  basin,  the  sides  of 
which  rose  gently  in  symmetrical  undulations  to 
meet  the  escalloped  sky.  Spurbridge  looked  afar, 
and  wondered,  and  looked  again.  He  filled  his 
capacious  lungs  Avith  the  breeze  that  swept  from 
nowhere  to  the  very  confines  of  this  incomprehen- 
sible expanse.  He  listened,  and  the  stillness  of  the 
plains  smote  upon  his  ear.  Things  temporal  had 
passed  away,  and  there  was  nothing  in  all  the 
world  but  this,  and  the  mystery  of  omnipotence 
that  filled  space  with  its  eloquent  silence. 

They  rode  that  day  till  they  had  gone  as  far  as 
they  wanted  to,  and  then  they  pitched  camp. 
Here  was  more  independence  to  thrill  Spurbridge's 


ON   THE  OFFEJSISIVE  69 

heart.  No  longer  did  they  liave  to  consider  com- 
binations of  wood,  water,  and  grass  in  selecting 
camps.  Grass  was  everj-where,  free  to  all ;  light 
wood  could  be  had  for  the  gathering  ;  and  water 
was  in  the  wagon.  The}'  consulted  the  desires  of 
none  but  themselves.  This  was  a  great  change 
from  garrison  life,  Spurbridge  said  to  himself  ; 
there  the  lash  of  discipline  was  always  paraded, 
and  there  were  various  conventionalities  to  be  ob- 
served. That  made  him  restive — that  and  the  en- 
forced idleness  of  days  upon  days.  But  here  he 
could  feel  that  he  was  his  own  master,  and  respon- 
sible to  no  one  under  heaven  ;  and  he  did  not  think 
he  was  any  the  worse  for  it. 

■  He  had  a  startled  moment  when  he  came  upon 
Gavin  serving  out  water — so  much  for  the  mules, 
so  much  for  coffee,  so  much  for  bread  he  must  bake, 
none  for  the  toilet.  Well,  Spurbridge  reflected  in 
another  moment,  why  should  they  wash  their  faces 
and  hands  ?  They  were  on  intimate  terms  with  the 
earth  just  then ;  sleeping  on  it  all  night,  walking 
on  it  all  day  ;  the  more  they  could  get  of  it,  the 
better.  Evidently,  it  was  not  from  economy,  but 
because  of  the  eternal  fitness  of  things,  that  they 
abstained  from  more  ablution  than  was  necessary. 
They  had  gone  into  camp  at  the  base  of  a  con- 
siderable elevation ;  and  when  the  mid-afternoon 
meal  was  eateu,  Ralph  and  Spurbridge  climbed  it. 
It  stood  like  a  sentinel  in  the  gateway  to  the  land 
of  game,  toward  which  they  had  been  journeying. 


70  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

Beyond  lay  a  great  plain,  yellow  in  tlie  level  light 
of  the  setting  smi,  barred  by  long  bine  shadows 
leading  toward  them  from  clumps  of  bushes  that 
were  magnified  into  groves  ;  and  scattered  over  it 
were  great  herds  of  antelope  feeding  in  security. 
Spurbridge  had  never  seen  these  pretty  fawn-and- 
white-marked  creatures,  and  he  watched  them  a 
long  time  through  the  field-glass,  while  Ralph  read 
him  a  lecture  on  their  habits.  Half  the  worry  was 
now  over;  they  had  found  game,  and  there  re- 
mained but  to  get  it.  Where  antelope  were  in  such 
numbers,  there  must  be  deer.  They  could  now  be- 
gin the  fatiguing  pleasures  for  which  they  had 
come. 

Thereafter  they  wandered  at  will,  camping  a 
few  days  in  likely  localities  and  scouring  the  hills, 
plains,  and  valleys  with  the  rifle,  then  moving  to  a 
new  choice.  Ralph  regulated  movements  so  they 
were  never  more  than  one  day's  long  march  to- 
and-from  water,  and  when  the  kegs  ran  dry,  Rob- 
inson would  assemble  his  team  and  go  for  a  fresh 
supply.  From  each  camp  as  a  centre,  the  hunters 
would  radiate  on  routes  decided  the  night  before, 
and  generally  brought  in  something  to  add  to  the 
store  of  choice  meats  that  the  cold  nights  allowed 
them  to  accumulate.  They  would  be  started  well 
out  before  sunrise,  when  the  white,  frosted  grass 
snapped  under  foot  ;  then  the  early  deer,  going  to 
browse  at  the  thickets,  would  be  seen  at  a  distance 
in   the   rising   light,  and  if   fingers   were  not  too 


ox  THE  OFFENSIVE  71 

numb  to  govern  the  rifle,  the  day's  search  would 
end  then  and  there.  Then  would  succeed  a  long 
afternoon  of  dozing  on  the  fragrant  earth  with 
pipe  and  book,  or  perhaps  a  game  of  cards.  The 
happiness  of  the  party  was  almost  unreasonably 
great. 

On  a  morning  when  Ealph  had  made  an  early 
start,  he  was  rewarded  by  sight  of  deer  before  he 
had  walked  a  mile.  It  was  quite  beyond  his  des- 
erts, for  his  thoughts  were  far  away  at  the  Fort, 
and  he  had  used  no  caution  in  his  progress.  He 
had  been  thinking  of  Lydia  Gerrish,  and  not  even 
the  brown  objects  moving  about  on  the  hillside,  a 
long  shot  away,  could  altogether  banish  her  from 
his  mind.  He  had  no  heart  for  stalking;  so  he 
secured  a  steady  rest,  and  risking  the  distance, 
tired.  He  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his  tar- 
get drop  ;  but  there  was  no  chance  for  another 
shot.  The  unharmed  deer  took  to  their  heels,  and 
disappeared  over  the  hill. 

Unelated,  he  walked  swiftly  over  the  short  half- 
mile,  and  approached  his  game.  The  animal  was 
not  dead,  but  it  had  been  struck  in  the  backbone, 
and  was  unable  to  rise  or  to  offer  any  resistance. 
It  could  only  lie  there  and  watch  its  human  foe 
coming  nearer  and  nearer.  Ealph  noted  its  de- 
fenceless condition  almost  mechanically,  for  his 
thoughts  were  still  with  Lydia.  He  talked  of  her 
to  no  one  ;  he  only  thought  of  her  to  himself. 
And  here  was  this  pretty  creature  at  his  feet,  his 


72  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

victim — and  he  saw  with  a  pang  of  self-reproach 
that  it  was  a  doe.  Ah,  there  was  a  double  pity  ! 
The  doe's  eye  was  upon  him,  glistening  with  agony, 
full  of  terror.  He  was  sorry  for  the  poor  thing, 
and  regretted  his  bullet.  He  had  never  felt  like 
this  before,  though  many  deer  had  fallen  to  him  ; 
why  should  he  now  ?  "  Lydia  !  Lydia  !  "  chimed 
through  his  brain.  That  was  the  reason.  Why 
was  he  so  far  from  the  post  ?  "  Lydia  !  "  "Why 
did  he  feel  such  keen  pity  ?     "  Lydia !  " 

At  least,  the  deer  should  suffer  no  longer.  The 
only  tribute  his  pity  could  offer  was  a  quick  death. 
He  stepped  resolutely  up,  knelt,  and  drew  the  head 
back  to  expose  the  throat.  He  held  the  knife 
ready  for  the  cut 

And  then  the  creature's  mortal  agony  and  terror 
triumphed  over  the  paralyzing  effect  of  its  wound. 
The  eyes  assumed  a  human  intensity,  it  made  a 
convulsive  effort  to  rise  and  flee,  and  finding  this 
impossible,  gave  forth  a  moan  so  anguish-laden,  so 
searching  in  its  poignancy  of  pain  and  fear,  that  it 
might  have  issued  from  the  lips  of  a  racked  human 
being  in  the  moment  of  dissolution. 

"  My  God !  "  Kalph  cried,  with  a  start.  He 
looked  furtively  around,  for  in  that  moment  he 
felt  like  a  murderer. 

But  only  for  a  moment.  Then,  leaning  over 
with  desperate  fierceness,  he  caught  the  pretty 
head  again  and  forced  it  back  till  the  lines  of  the 
throat  were  tense  ;  and  in  there  he  jDlunged  his 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  73 

knife,  with  the  license  of  a  thirst  for  blood.  It 
flowed  in  a  torrent,  and  the  blade  drank.-  A  short, 
racking  moment,  and  the  doe  w'as  become  inani- 
mate. It  was  food — for  men  ?  No ;  for  God's 
creatures.  Ealph  looked  upon  his  handiwork 
with  loathing ;  the  smell  of  the  warm  blood  as- 
sailed him  nauseatingly.  He  arose  and  hastened 
from  the  place  of  murder. 

"  Lydia  !  "  he  murmured  as  he  went.  Until  the 
deer  uttered  its  moan  he  had  not  reflected  that, 
equally  with  Lydia  herself,  had  God  given  it  li- 
cense to  live,  and  that  the  license  might  be  re- 
voked as  suddenly  in  one  case  as  in  the  other. 

"When  he  reached  camp,  late  in  the  afternoon, 
he  was  rallied  on  the  result  of  his  day's  work. 

"What  have  tjou  got?"  Spurbridge  exulted, 
openly. 

"  Oh,  nothing.  I  had  a  shot  over  here,  but  it 
didn't  amount  to  anything.  Too  far  away,  I 
guess." 

"  A  fine  hunter  you  are  !  I  got  three  to-daj'- — 
and  there  they  hang  by  the  heels  !     See  them  ?  " 

Ralph  looked  at  them  vacantly,  and  smiled,  and 
said  they  were  fine.  He  remembered  to  congrat- 
ulate Spurbridge  on  his  ability  and  luck.  He  was 
not  pleased  with  his  own. 

Once,  in  the  course  of  their  wandering,  they 
camped  in  a  canon-head  where  a  stream  of  clear 
water  gurgled  from  a  cleft  in  the  rocks.     There 


74  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

were  trees  of  prominence  about,  and  along  the  rill, 
even  in  that  late  November,  there  was  a  ribbon  of 
green.  Spurbridge  took  pleasure  in  the  place  and 
would  have  lingered  there,  lotus  eating  ;  but  Ralph 
insisted  on  a  short  camp,  the  grim  sergeant  roared 
his  command,  and  the  party  hastened  away. 

Before  they  went  Spurbridge  heard  the  men 
grumbling  over  some  service  superstition  as  they 
filled  the  water-kegs.  He  listened  with  surprise 
and  a  sort  of  contempt,  for  he  had  no  j)atience 
with  the  black  ignorance  that  gave  rise  to  it. 

"  That  is  foolishness  you  are  talking,"  he  said, 
petulantly, 

"  Yes,  sir,"  they  replied,  deferentially,  as  sol- 
diers should.  Then,  "  You  know  this  spring, 
sir  i 

"  No,  but  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It  is 
good  water,  and  we  can't  get  too  much  of  it." 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  there's  been  parties 
here  that  got  too  much  of  it.     It  brings  bad  luck." 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !  "  he  exclaimed,  impatiently. 
"  AVhat  sort  of  talk  is  that  for  men  ?  Fill  the 
kegs,  and  let  us  hear  no  more  of  it !  " 

Then  he  had  Avalked  away  with  a  crankily  im- 
portant step,  and  made  some  severe  reflections  on 
the  intelligence  of  the  average  enlisted  men,  that 
should  induce  among  them  such  superstition.  No 
educated  man — no  ofticer — could  countenance  it. 
He  did  not  even  think  worth  Avliile  to  tell  Ralph 
of  it. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  75 

Occasionally,  on  the  marcli  tliroiigli  some  nar- 
row canon,  tliey  would  come  upon  a  sheep  herder 
driving  his  flocks  to  new  pasturage.  Kalph  looked 
upon  these  encroachers  with  an  unfavorable  eye, 
sharing  the  prejudice  of  the  cattlemen  without 
their  reason.  And  once  they  happened  upon  a 
herder's  camp  that  had  taken  on  an  air  of  perma- 
nence, in  that  a  well  had  been  sunk  and  a  bucket 
and  windlass  rigged.  There  were  w^omen  also,  to 
increase  the  home  sense,  and  as  the  hunters  drove 
up  they  were  busy  at  tubs  over  an  unsightly  wash- 
ing. They  were  sun-  and  wind-worn,  and  v^iih 
the  freedom  of  the  plains  they  relinquished  work 
to  speak  with  these  chance-passers,  glad  that  the 
solemn  loneliness  of  their  lives  should  be  broken 
in  upon.  They  recommended  the  well  water ; 
gave  of  it  freely ;  were  sorry  the  men  were  away 
with  the  herds  ;  and  as  they  talked,  "  dipped  " — 
chewing  a  small  stick  till  the  end  was  swollen  like 
a  brush,  then  dii^piug  it  in  a  jar  of  snuff  and  rub- 
bing the  powder  on  their  gums  and  yellowed  teeth 
with  relish. 

"  What  do  you  do  to  kill  time  ?  "  Kalph  asked 
them. 

"Oh,  we're  busy  enough,"  they  said.  "We 
don't  have  time  to  get  lonesome." 

"Do  you  like  it  here  ?  " 

"  Course  !  "  In  some  surprise.  "  We  don't  want 
anything  we  haven't  got.  Money  wouldn't  do  any 
good  here,  so  we  don't  Avant  that ;  and  we  haven't 


76  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

got  any  money,  so  we  don't  want  to  go  where  we 
would  need  it." 

"  You  miglit  earn  it,"  Spurbridge  suggested. 

They  replied  with  fine  scorn,  "Oh,  that 
wouldn't  be  worth  while  !  " 

After  driving  in  silence  a  little  time,  Ealph 
turned  to  Spurbridge  curiously.  "What  do  you 
think  of  that  ?  "  said  he. 

"  I  admire  the  spirit  immensely,"  Spurbridge 
replied,  "  but  I  shouldn't  care  for  the  same  thing 
myself." 

"  No,"  assented  Ralph.  "  There  the  savage  is 
in  the  ascendant.  We're  only  playing  we  are  that 
kind,  out  here  on  this  trip  ;  just  giving  our  sub- 
dued savage  a  little  exercise.  Directly,  w^e  shall 
go  back  to  the  post  and  bottle  him  up  for  another 
space.  We  may  admire  those  Avho  scorn  the  com- 
forts and  customs  of  the  civilized  world — but  we 
can't  do  that  sort  of  thing  ourselves." 

"  We  can't,"  said  Spurbridge,  as  though  the  ad- 
mission hurt.  "  We  have  been  thinking  of  other 
things  too  long.  I  suspect,"  he  added,  "those 
people  are  making  fun  of  us  now  behind  our 
backs  ;  they  think  we  are  amateurs  where  they  are 
professionals." 

"  Yes,  if  they  think  at  all,"  said  Ealph. 

"  Ah,  that's  it  !  "  Spurbridge  grasped  at  the  idea. 
" '  If  they  think  at  all.'  That's  the  main  differ- 
ence between  people  who  live  in  houses  and  those 
who  dwell  in  tents — the  thinkinsf." 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  77 

Ralpli  looked  at  him  quizzically.  "  And  we  sol- 
diers who  inhabit  the  tented  field — where  do  we 
come  in  ?     Do  we  think,  or  act  ?  " 

"  Think  !  "  Spurbridge  roared,  bursting  into 
sudden  rage  at  his  narroM'^  experience.  "  By  gad, 
Ralph,  there  isn't  any  relation  between  us  and 
the  tented  field  !  I  might  as  well  be  a  dummy  for 
all  the  service  I  am  likely  to  see — notwithstand- 
ing yoiu"  Indians  at  the  agency  !  " 

"  Oh,  don't  attribute  them  to  me !  "  Ralph  pro- 
tested, lightly.  "  The  trader's  more  responsible 
than  I."  A  little  farther  along  the  road,  he  said, 
disconnectedly : 

"  It  is  a  nuisance,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"What's  that?"  asked  Spurbridge,  at  a  loss. 
The  thread  of  discourse  had  slipped  away  from 
him. 

"  Thinking." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  especially  when  one  thinks  about 
one's  self,"  he  added,  profoundly. 

"Ah,  that's  something  not  to  be  spoken  of," 
said  Ralph,  hastily.  "  When  one  gets  old  enough 
to  really  think,  one  is  generally  so  well  acquainted 
with  one's  self  that  propriety  forbids  the  publica- 
tion of  such  thought." 

"  You  have  found  it  so  ?  " 

"  Never  mind.  What  I  mean  is  the  mechanical 
operation  of  thinking.  Didn't  it  ever  strike  you 
as  an  awkward  machine,  lacking  modern  improve- 
ments and  development  ?     We  can't  do  anything 


78  ON  THE   OF B' ENDIVE 

witliout  thinking,  and  it  takes  some  people  a 
mighty  long  time  to  make  up  their  minds."  A 
smile  flickered  about  his  mouth  as  he  saw  Spur- 
bridge's  puzzled  air,  but  he  maintained  a  serious 
attitude. 

"  I  knoAv,"  said  Spurbridge,  at  length.  "  But 
what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  " 

"  Just  grumble,"  said  Ralph,  resignedly.  "  In- 
stinct's the  thing,  though.  Women  and  all  the 
higher  animals  have  it.  It  is  only  man  that  grubs 
along,  and  thinks.  Instinct  drove  those  people 
we  just  saw  to  pitch  their  camp  under  a  hill 
near  a  grove,  and  to  discover  water  signs  so  they 
could  dig  a  well  intelligently.  We  might  have 
reasoned  about  it  a  year,  and  then  have  been  all 
wrong." 

"I  am  pleased  to  have  you  put  woman  above 
man,"  said  Spurbridge,  in  a  caustic  tone. 

"  Why  ?  Don't  you  agree  with  me?  "  Ralph  de- 
manded, almost  indignantly.  "  She  is  'waj^  ahead 
of  us  in  intelligence,  and  if  3'ou'd  stop  reasoning 
about  it  you'd  see  it,  too.  She  never  reasons,  ex- 
cept as  a  compliment  to  man  ;  she  doesn't  have  to. 
She  has  an  instinctive  knowledge  of  what  is  right 
and  Avliat  is  wrong,  of  what  is  expedient  and  what 
is  not." 

"Why  does  she  make  mistakes,  then?"  de- 
manded Sixirbridge. 

"  She  doesn't,  except  when  she  tries  to  reason — • 
which  is  really  a  lost  art  with  her.     She  has  been 


OJV  THE  OFFENSIVE  79 

evoluted  beyond  it.  Mistakes,  eh  ?  If  it  wasn't 
for  that  millstone,  Man,  she'd  be  all  right," 

"Well,"  grumbled  Spiirbridge,  unwillingly, 
"  there  may, be  a  grain  of  truth  in  what  you  say  ; 
and  when  the  higher  education  does  really  get  in 
its  w^ork,  perhaps  she  will  rise  to  the  plane  you've 
set  apart  for  her." 

"  Nonsense,"  declared  Ralph,  getting  out  the 
field-glass  to  scan  a  valley  just  opening  to  the 
view,  "  it  won't  raise  her  to  it.  It  will  only  give 
her  a  chance  to  prove  that  she's  always  been  right 
there." 

Their  wanderings  Avere  well  ordered  through 
Ralph's  knowledge  of  plainscraft.  He  had  been 
over  the  land  many  times  before,  and  not  always 
on  so  peaceful  an  errand  as  the  present.  Spur- 
bridge  took  no  note  other  than  to  wonder  from 
time  to  time  which  way  was  north,  and  to  estimate 
vaguely  the  miles  they  had  come.  They  moved 
on  an  arc  of  a  large  curve,  thoroughly  scouting  all 
the  country  lying  within  it ;  so  it  was  that  after 
many  days  they  found  themselves  camped  in  a 
grove  near  a  small  stream  of  clear  Avater,  and  no 
more  than  a  day's  march  from  the  Fort.  Decem- 
ber had  come  upon  them,  and  but  three  days  were 
left  them  of  the  twenty  that  had  been  granted. 

Ralph  and  Spurbridge  sat  by  the  creek,  nibbling 
at  water-cress  and  saying,  "Now,  shall  we  return 
to   the  Fort    at  once,   or    stay    here  in  camp  till 


80  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

the  last  moment  of  our  leave  ?  "  Their  faces  and 
hands  were  red  with  exposure,  and  their  lips, 
which  had  cracked,  bled,  and  swelled  with  fierce 
wdnds  and  alkali  dust,  had  tougheued  in  their 
natural  dimensions.  Were  seventeen  days  of  sav- 
agery enough,  or  would  they  have  the  twenty  ? 
Had  either  reasons  for  going  or  staying  that  were 
unknown  to  the  other  ?  They  were  settling  the 
question. 

"  The  commissary  is  rimning  pretty  low,"  said 
Ralph,  deprecatingly.  "  The  condensed  milk  is 
gone,  the  sugar  is  gone,  we  are  reduced  to  taking 
our  rank  coffee  noir." 

"  I  can  stand  that,"  Spurbridge  replied,  cheer- 
fully, "  but  I'm  getting  tired  of  a  meat  diet. 
There's  been  no  flour  in  camp  for  a  week." 

"  Be  easy.  Gavin  took  a  side  of  bacon  over  to 
a  ranch  he  discovered  somewhere  about  here,  and 
swapped  it  for  a  bag  of  flour." 

Spurbridge  grinned  through  his  bristling  growth 
of  youthful  beard  as  the  objections  Avere  cleared 
away.  "  Then  I  suppose  we  can  stand  it  a  couple 
of  days  yet,  so  far  as  appetite  goes  ?  "  he  asked. 

"I  should  be  willing  to  chance  it,"  replied  Ralph. 

They  gathered  more  cress  and  chewed  it  reflec- 
tively. "  For  my  part,"  said  Spurbridge,  "I  have 
no  real  longing  to  get  back  to  a  succession  of  re- 
veilles and  tattoos.  I'm  sick  of  my  few  little  du- 
ties, and  wouldn't  care  if  I  never  took  them  up 
again.     I  have  no  objection  to  the  Fort,  consid- 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  81 

erecl  as  a  fort,  and  I  should  like  to  get  in  touch 
with  the  world ;  but  if  I  could  slip  iu  for  half  an 
hour  and  get  the  mail  I  would  come  away  again 
gladly." 

"  If  we  go,  we  go  to  stay,"  Ralph  re^Dlied,  de- 
jectedly. "  There's  no  drawing  baak,  once  you  set 
foot  in  the  colonel's  dominions." 

"Well,  how  is  it  with  yourself?"  asked  Spui-- 
bridge,  at  length,  unwilling  to  decide  the  case  for 
his  superior  officer. 

Ealph  simulated  indifference.  "  Oh,  there  are 
some  reasons  why  I  should  like  to  get  back,"  he 
said. 

"  I  suppose "  Spurbridge  halted  sharply  in 

his  utterance.  He  had  started  to  make  a  quasi 
jocose  remark  about  the  saloon's  attraction  for 
Ralph  ;  but  he  remembered  that  Ralph  had  not 
mentioned  such  matters  during  the  trip — had  ap- 
parently, by  an  effort,  put  them  out  of  mind.  "  I 
suppose  Father  Brugan  has  been  as  constant  iu 
attendance  at  the  post  as  usual,"  he  said,  weakly. 
Ralph  gave  a  nervous  start. 

"  I  wish,  Spurbridge,"  he  said,  a  trifle  stiffly, 
"  you  would  forget  a  remark  I  let  slip  once  about 
the  priest,  and — and  certain  stars,  you  know.  It 
was  very  foolish,  and  I  don't  want  to  be  reminded 
of  it." 

"Why,  certainly,"  Spurbridge  replied,  in   sur- 
prise.    "  I  wasn't  thinking  of  that  at  all,  Ralph — 
sometliing  quite  different." 
6 


82  ON  THE   OFFENSIVE 

"Oil,  were  yon?"  Ralpli  tried  to  laugli,  but 
only  cackled  pitifully.  "  Well,  I  was  guilty,  you 
see,  and  fled  wlien  I  wasn't  chased.  I  had  it  on 
my  mind — I  always  do  !  In  fact,  old  man,  this 
trip  hasn't  clone  for  me  all  I  hoped  it  would,  and 
I'd  like  to  get  what  benefit  I  can  out  of  it.  I  don't 
want  to  go  back." 

"  I'm  glad  you  don't,"  said  Spurbridge,  heartily. 
"I  don't  either.  I  don't  care  if  I  never  go  to 
parade  again." 

"Oh,  you  mustn't  get  disgruntled,"  said  Ealpli, 
trying  to  soothe  him  in  turn.  "  You  stay  by  it, 
and  by  and  by  it  will  get  to  be  second  nature  to 
you,  and  you'll  like  it.  Then  you  settle  down,  and 
— and — marry,  and  get  to  be  a  colonel  in  time  for 
retirement.  There's  a  future  and  a  green  old  age 
for  you  ! " 

"  I  would  recommend  that  you  try  your  own 
medicine,  Ralph,"  said  Spurbridge,  softly.  He 
Avas  feeling  wonderfully  friendly  and  confidential 
since  Raljjh's  tacit  confession. 

Ralph  made  him  no  reply,  so  he  reached  out 
and  grasped  his  hand.  Ralph  gave  his  a  nervous 
wrench  that  pained  him  till  he  went  to  sleep  ;  then 
he  looked  out  over  the  water,  and  bit  his  mus- 
tache. 

"  Let's  stay,  Spurbridge,"  he  whispered.  "  Stay 
as  long  as  we  can.  The  other — the  other  is  so  far 
away,  so  high  above  me,  I  can't  stand  in  the  pres- 
ence of  it.     Let's  stay,"  he  pleaded. 


ox  THE  OFFENSIVE  83 

"  All  right,  old  man !  "  said  Spurbridge,  cheerily. 
"We'll  stay  till  the  last  tap  on  the  drum."  He 
saw  Gavin  coming  down  to  the  creek  for  water, 
his  serving-men  having  temporarily  deserted  him. 
"  Oh-h,  Gavin  !"  he  called.  "  Make  up  some  good 
biscuit  to-night !  We'll  live  high  on  camp-fare  for 
two  days  yet !  " 


IV 


Perhaps  nothing  wliatever  is  left  of  the  Fort 
now;  for  it  has  become  an  abandoned  post,  and 
its  good  old  pnlse-stirring  name  is  dropped  from 
the  Army  Register.  But  in  the  day  of  its  glory — 
in  the  day  when  it  was  a  point  from  which  vic- 
tories were  achieved  —  sweet  bugle-notes  rippled 
through  the  air,  calling  men  to  the  instant  per- 
formance of  duties  to  which  they  had  solemnly 
sworn  themselves.  There  was  constantly  that  un- 
dertone of  solemnity  about  the  army,  in  spite  of 
all  its  dash  and  bravery  and  merry  tunes ;  it  was 
all  done  in  the  fulfilment  of  vows.  Men  might  be- 
come tipsy  and  temporarily  irresponsible  ;  or  they 
might  gamble,  or  in  any  way  subvert  the  laws  of 
morality.  But  if  one  went  deep  enough,  one  would 
find  running  through  it  all  an  unbroken  thread  by 
which  they  held  that  they  liad  certain  things  to  do, 
and  that  they  would  die  sooner  than  leave  them 
undone.  Generally  there  was  no  surface  indica- 
tion of  this,  especially  in  men  who  had  been  long 
at  the  business. 

Oflicially,  the  community  was  single  and  knit 
together  most  compactly.    Socially,  there  were  two 


ox  THE  OFFENSIVE  85 

communities ;  for  the  commissioned  strength  was 
sliced  off  the  enlisted,  and  had  its  being  quite 
separate  and  distinct.  It  was  sometimes  almost 
inconsiderable,  as  regarded  numbers,  but  in  this 
numerical  weakness  lay  its  moral  strength.  Its 
members  made  of  themselves  something  like  a 
family  through  their  common  interest  and  aim, 
and  ranged  themselves  under  the  paternal  govern- 
ment of  the  senior  officer.  Being  so  few  and  so 
intimate,  they  were  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the 
strong  and  weak  points  of  each  other,  and  were 
wont  to  comment  thereon  with  all  the  freedom  of 
members  of  one  family.  This  was  especially  true 
of  the  women,  who  sometimes  finely  drew  the  line 
between  friendly  interest  and  gossip — and  some- 
times drew  no  line  at  all.  Their  running  comment 
was  a  chronicle  of  the  fort  from  day  to  day.  Then 
there  would  be  smarting  of  irritated  feelings,  or 
there  might  result  caustic  rejoinder,  or  fits  of  the 
sulks — quite  as  between  the  children  of  smaller 
families.  But  all  that  was  temporary ;  quarrels 
were  the  last  thing  to  be  fostered  in  a  place  where 
isolation  threw  them  so  completely  upon  one  an- 
other's best  mercies.  The  women  had  their  in- 
stinctive kindness,  and  the  men  respected  the  let- 
ter of  that  moral  code  that  had  been  bred  into  the 
bone  since  their  first  day  at  West  Point,  and  of 
which  the  chief  divisions  are — 

Thou  shalt  not  lie. 

Thou  shalt  not  steal. 


SG  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

Thou  slialt  not  be  afraid. 

So,  between  the  two,  breaches  of  the  peace  were 
speedily  healed,  and  the  family  concord  was  seldom 
heavily  jarred. 

When  it  happened  that  any  officers  were  away, 
as  Ealpli  and  Spurbridge  were,  their  return  was 
happily  anticipated.  Tlie  absence  of  two  made 
a  consj)icuous  shortening  in  the  officers'  line  at 
parade  as  they  marched  to  the  front,  and  was  es- 
pecially noticeable  in  the  quarters  of  married  offi- 
cers, where  everyone  was  in  the  habit  of  dropping 
in  at  odd  times  for  an  hour's  chat  and  a  share  of 
whatever  in  the  way  of  cakes  and  ale  might  be  on 
hand.  There  were  but  few  from  without  the  post 
who  were  privileged  to  call ;  for  the  officers  were 
isolated,  and  accepted  their  isolation  proudly,  even 
drawing  the  lines  yet  closer  about  them.  Father 
Brugan  might  have  been  the  only  person  in  the 
little  town  to  come  and  go  on  a  social  level  with 
them.  They  accepted  him ;  but  he  sought  them, 
although  with  an  ulterior  motive. 

Every  morning,  while  the  band  was  sounding  oft' 
at  guard-mount.  Colonel  Gerrish  issued  from  his 
quarters  and  walked  stiffly  up  the  parade  to  the 
office.  The  old  and  new  officers  of  the  day,  stand- 
ing at  parade  rest  during  that  portion  of  the  cer- 
emony, knew  intuitively  when  he  passed  in  rear 
of  them,  pausing  a  moment  to  scan  the  line.  He 
was  methodical,  as  no  old  soldier  who  really  is  a 
soldier  can  help  being;  uns^^■erving  in  his  obser- 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  87 

vance  of  the  three  commandments,  materially 
shortening  the  Decalogue ;  just  toward  all  men, 
thoughtful  and  courteous  toward  all  women,  high- 
ly appreciative  of  military  deportment  and  effi- 
ciency. The  men  used  to  say  they  liked  him  bet- 
ter in  the  field  than  in  garrison,  but  there  were 
reasons  for  that ;  it  is  always  harder  to  keep  the 
efficiency  of  a  command  up  to  standard  in  garrison 
than  in  the  field,  and  Colonel  Gerrish  had  accord- 
ingly to  draw  the  lines  a  little  more  tightly  through 
days  of  peaceful  drill  than  of  active  operations. 

The  paternal  form  of  government  worked  very 
well  under  a  man  like  Colonel  Gerrish.  He  was 
never  seen  of  a  morning  until  he  came  out  during 
guard-mount ;  but  the  affairs  of  the  post  went  on 
quite  as  smoothly  beyond  his  view  as  in  his  pres- 
ence. The  sentinels  protected  government  prop- 
erty from  trespass  and  thieves,  and  the  police  and 
fatigue  details  wrought  about  the  post  to  its  ad- 
vantage. 

After  Colonel  Gerrish  had  appeared,  the  other 
officers  were  soon  to  be  seen  heading  toward  his 
office.  They  were  punctilious  in  the  matter  of 
saluting  each  other  pleasantly  every  morning. 
Sometimes,  if  there  was  a  question  of  general  in- 
terest, they  would  sit  and  discuss  it  with  the 
colonel ;  but  of  tener  they  would  soon  separate  and 
go,  some  to  the  absurd  little  library,  some  to  their 
companies,  and  some  to  eventually  drift  around  by 
the  saloon  and  make  glad  the  heart  of  the  propria- 


S8  ox  THE  OFFENSIVE 

tor.  Then  came  an  hour  of  drill.  The  long  af- 
ternoon was  disposed  of  according  to  the  ingenu- 
ity of  the  sufferer,  and  at  sundown  Avas  parade. 
Duties  were  so  disposed  as  to  take  up  the  whole 
day,  although  they  occuj^ied  but  little  time.  The 
intervals  of  many  consecutive  hours  were  supposed 
to  afford  opportunity  for  professional  improve- 
ment, and  some  became  expert  card  players,  or 
learned  to  hold  much  whiskey  with  a  good  grace. 
Soldiers  get  tired  of  theoretical  instruction  some- 
times, and  refuse  to  improve  their  fleeting  mo- 
ments according  to  the  plans  of  brilliant  schedule 
builders. 

The  Avomen  were  pre-eminently  home-makers. 
There  was  nothing  else  for  them  to  do.  The  toAvn 
presented  no  attractions,  and  they  could  not  be 
forever  walking  or  riding  over  the  prairies  or  along 
the  watercourse.  They  took  care  of  the  children 
— of  whom  there  were  many — and  made  homes 
where  homes  had  never  been  bhought  of  before. 
And  they  kept  the  love  of  their  husbands,  pos- 
sessed the  respect  of  their  husbands'  comrades, 
and  by  maintaining  a  social  standard  did  as  much 
to  promote  the  efficiency  of  the  army  as  half  the 
orders  issued  from  Washington.  This  is  not  true 
of  all  army  women  ;  it  is  true  of  them  as  a  rule. 

Even  this  did  not  occup}'  all  their  day.  There  is 
more  time  in  an  isolated  frontier  garrison  during 
twenty-four  consecutive  hours  than  anywhere  else 
on  the  known  globe.     For   the   rest,  they  sat  to- 


ON  THE   OFFENSIVE  89 

getlier  and  made  history — spun  a  fine  web  of  ciu'- 
reut  events  in  tlie  post.  Where  real  events  were 
so  rare  and  dull  routine  was  the  rule,  the  web 
necessarily  sometimes  became  attenuated.  This 
detracted  nothing,  however,  from  the  pleasure  of 
their  occupation ;  for  all  women  are  born  spinners. 

While  Colonel  Gerrish  was  at  the  office,  Lydia 
would  go  with  her  mother  about  small  household 
duties,  sharing  in  a  measure  the  work  with  the 
soldier's  daughter  who  came  in  and  took  a  degree 
of  service  with  them.  This  was  Kitty  Killeen ; 
her  father  was  in  Captain  Lyndon's  company. 
Later,  Lydia  would  read  to  her  mother,  or  sit  with 
her,  some  light  work  in  her  hands  ;  she  seldom  left 
her  alone.  And  when  her  father  was  back,  if  she 
tired  of  the  strain  of  reading — or,  perhaps,  of  her 
mother's  sparse  conversation — ^she  could  go  down 
the  line  and  chat  with  Mrs.  Lawrence.  Between 
the  young  matron  and  the  girl  there  was  fine  afi'ec- 
tion  ;  they  were  supplemental  in  many  ways.  Mrs. 
Gerrish  seldom  ran  in  on  her  comrade-women  of 
the  line.  She  rarely  formed  an  intimacy,  and  the 
ladies  thought  her  "  cold." 

Lydia  was  army  in  every  fibre.  She  was  born 
in  the  Cherokee  Nation,  was  all  over  Texas  at  five, 
shivered  through  Montana  winters  at  ten,  saw  the 
Pacific  coast  from  Paget  Sound  to  San  Diego  dur- 
ing the  next  five  years,  and  then  underwent  the 
ordeal  of  boarding  -  school  and  seminary  life  in 
the  East.     Returning,  she  accompanied  her  father 


90  02i  THE  OFFENSIVE 

from  post  to  post  through  Utah,  Colorado,  New 
Mexico,  and  Arizona.  She  was  thoroughly  loyal 
to  the  army  ;  it  was  meat  and  drink  to  her,  and 
she  was  nourished  in  its  high  but  narrow  beliefs 
and  customs.  She  possessed  its  straightforward- 
ness and  sincerity,  and  had  happily  missed  its 
lower  traits. 

She  was  used  to  the  constant  sight  and  company 
of  armed  men.  While  a  growing  girl,  she  had 
made  journeys  under  the  care  of  an  armed  escort. 
Once,  they  had  been  attacked  and  sustained  a 
severe  fight ;  so  she  knew  Indians  as  they  were, 
and  as  they  were  painted.  She  pitied  them,  but 
knew  better  than  to  waste  any  sympathy  or  senti- 
ment on  them.  And  when  troops  were  going  out 
to  take  the  field  she  would  speed  them  with  a 
cheerful,  encouraging  face,  despite  the  anxious 
light  in  her  eyes.  This  was  of  her  army  birth  and 
life.     It  was  not  acquired ;  it  was  natural. 

When  she  went  to  the  young  ladies'  seminary 
where  she  was  "  finished,"  it  was  because  it  was 
the  proper,  the  indispensable  thing  for  a  girl  with 
an  established  social  position.  There  was  no  par- 
ticular art  or  study  to  which  it  was  desired  to 
direct  her  attention.  As  the  daughter  of  an  army 
officer,  but  one  thing  was  required  of  her ;  to  adorn 
her  circle.  It  happened  that  many  of  the  girls 
she  met  during  these  few  years  away  from  the 
army  were  not  being  educated  to  the  same  end  as 
herself ;  they  had  preferences,  talents  which  they 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  91 

indulged  and  by  which,  later,  they  hoped  to  make 
themselves  independent.  Independence  seemed 
to  be  their  slogan.  There  was  something  very 
attractive  in  this  for  Lydia,  in  her  quality  of  an 
army  girl ;  for  the  army,  although  dependent  upon 
political  powers  for  its  very  existence,  is  an  im- 
mensely independent  little  body  so  far  as  its 
action  is  concerned.  But  civil  pursuits  were  not 
for  her;  she  had  gone  there  to  be  finished,  and 
finished  she  was,  with  an  extra  gloss  ;  for  in  the 
last  six  months  her  father  was  promoted  to  a 
colonelcy  and  got  a  corresponding  increase  of  pay. 
So  she  parted  from  these  girls  with  their  new  era 
notions  of  a  career  and  independence,  and  went 
back  to  the  army. 

According  to  the  programme  laid  down  for  such 
cases,  she  should  have  married  very  soon,  young 
officers  at  isolated  stations  being  peculiarly  sus- 
ceptible. But  this  was  a  case  in  which  the  old 
formula  failed.  She  did  not  many,  and  women 
who  took  a  friendly  interest  in  her  affairs  said  it 
was  not  the  young  officers'  fault.  There  had  been 
sevej-al  who  were  pleased  to  offer  themselves ;  but 
her  ear  was  disinclined,  and  she  occupied  herself 
over  correspondences  with  the  girls  whom  she  had 
seen  started  in  pursuit  of  a  career.  Some,  she 
learned,  failed  by  their  own  weakness,  and  some 
by  marriage ;  but  others  were  yet  pressing  on  and 
were  well  in  the  vanguard  on  the  march  for  the 
sex's  emancipation.     That  Avas  in  effect  what  they 


93  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

said  about  themselves ;  and  while  she  was  not 
misled  by  tlieir  fervently  enthusiastic  phrases,  she 
heartily  wished  she  were  one  of  them.  But  instead 
of  that  stirring  life,  she  was  reading  books  of  her 
own  unguided  selection,  and  passing  time  as  best 
she  might  at  a  prosing,  stagnating,  far  Western 
army  post.  It  might  be  busy  for  some,  but  not 
for  her  ;  and  it  seemed  a  rather  undesirable  thing 
that  life  had  brought  her  to — that  she  should  be 
required  to  remain  passive  in  the  centre  of  the 
circle.  What  was  it  all  for?  Was  it  for  any- 
thing ?  Oh,  they  wore  tough  questions  she  asked 
herself  as  she  thought  it  all  over ! 

It  did  not  necessarily  follow  that  she  and  Milli- 
cent  Lawrence  should  be  warm  friends  just  because 
one  was  dark,  and  one  was  fair,  and  both  were 
young  and  amiable.  So  far  as  that  went,  she 
might  have  been  attracted  to  any  one  of  half-a-doz- 
en other  women  in  the  garrison.  It  was  rather  the 
discovery  that  Mrs.  Lawrence,  as  a  girl,  had  held 
to  these  same  ideals,  and  had  even  pursued  them 
with  a  perceptible  degree  of  success.  This  was  the 
delightful  bond  of  sympathy.  Mrs.  Lawrence. had 
given  that  all  over  now,  and  thought  only  of  her 
wifely  and  matronly  obligations ;  but  she  had 
marched  with  the  vanguard ;  she  had  done  her 
share  toward  the  emancipation  of  the  sex  !  Lydia 
readily  excused  her  for  having  married,  just  as  she 
would  an  old  soldier  for  seeking  retirement.  Mar- 
rj'ing  an  ofhcer  was  different  from  marrying  any- 


Oy  THE  OFFENSIVE  93 

one  else — more  like  a  reward  for  good  conduct, 
somehow.  For  an  officer  belonged  to  tlie  most 
ancient  and  noble  of  professions,  and  was  likely  to 
be  as  nearly  patrician  as  a  democratic  American 
would  dare  be.  Lydia  took  delight  in  rehearsing 
with  Mrs.  Lawrence  the  affairs  of  the  vanguard. 
They  expected  to  live  to  see  the  emancipation  of 
the  sex. 

"  When  I  think  of  all  those  girls  are  doing,  Milli- 
cent,  I'm  fairly  eaten  alive  "with  envy,"  Lydia  de- 
clared one  morning  on  the  porch.  December  had 
put  a  chill  in  the  air,  but  with  light  wraps  in  the 
bright  sun,  they  were  comfortable. 

"I  know,  dear,  it  is  perfectly  maddening  to  sit 
still  and  see  others  going  ahead,"  said  Mrs.  Law- 
rence, sympathetically,  looking  up  to  give  force  to 
her  Avords  and  continuing  her  gaze  abroad  for  the 
safety  of  the  boys.  They  were  contentedly  hunt- 
ing tarantulas  on  the  parade,  and  she  rested  easy. 
Tarantulas  were  not  in  force  at  that  season. 

"  There  is  nothing  they  are  not  up  to,"  Lydia 
continued. 

"  Indeed,  no  ;  I  have  to  keep  watch  of  them  all 
the  time,"  replied  Mrs.  Lawrence,  unguardedly,  in 
maternal  pride. 

Lydia  looked  at  her  a  moment  in  pained  sur- 
prise before  she  remembered  that  present  cares 
and  interests  are  always  of  most  importance. 

"  Yes,  and  the  girls,  too,"  she  said,  then. 


94  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

Mrs.  Lawrence  saw  lier  mistake  and  courag- 
eously rectiiied  it.  "I  should  liave  said  ' girls,' 
dear,  but  I  was  looking  after  Will  and  Jack  just 
then."  Lydia  at  once  forgave  her.  "AVhat  are 
the  girls  doing?  "  Mrs.  Lawrence  asked,  summon- 
ing her  fading  interest. 

Lydia  smiled  her  gratification.  "  Well,  two  are 
in  journalism ;  they  are  reporters  on  daily  papers 
in  New  York."  Mrs.  Lawrence  arched  her  eye- 
brows slightly,  and  Lydia  hastened  to  qualify  her 
opinion  of  that  ambition.  "  It  doesn't  seem  to  me 
I  should  like  that,  but  I  presume  they  don't  have 
to  go  about  into  all  sorts  of  places  the  way  men  do. 
And  one  has  gone  in  for  medicine,  and  has  an  office 
with  a  glass  sign  in  the  window,  She  says  she  is 
really  supporting  herself.  What  sort  of  people  do 
you  imagine  can  employ  her  ?  " 

"Eeally,  I  don't  know.  She  may  be  ever  so 
nice  a  girl ■'" 

"  Oh,  she  is  !  " 

"But  I  don't  believe  I  should  want  a  woman 
doctor  anj^way.  I  have  the  old-fashioned  preju- 
dice," Mrs.  Lawrence  concluded.  She  stole  another 
glance  over  the  parade  from  beneath  her  lashes. 

"  So  have  I,"  assented  Lydia,  with  decision. 
"  Army  surgeons  are  the  only  doctors  I  know  any- 
thing about,  and  I  can't  imagine  women  taking 
'  their  place." 

"Are  any  of  them  taking  up  art  ?  " 

"  Oh,   3'es,   several,"  said   Lj-dia,  in   animation. 


OiV  THE  OFFENSIVE  96 

"  Two  girls  are  in  Paris  now,  studying  like  any- 
thing ! " 

"  I  can  imagine  that  !  "  said  Mrs.  Lawrence,  with 
a  smile  of  liappy  memory,  "  Have  they  done  any- 
thing yet  ?  " 

"  No-o,  I  believe  not.  But  some  of  the  girls 
who  stayed  in  New  York  are  doing  something,"  she 
added,  putting  forward  the  better  side  of  the  mat- 
ter. "  One  is  making  designs  for  initial  letters  and 
tail  pieces  that  she  sells  to  the  papers  ;  sometimes 
she  gets  orders.  And  she  made  a  design  for  a  book- 
cover  that  was  submitted  in  competition  and  came 
very  near  winning.  They  wanted  to  accept  it  aw- 
fully." 

"  Why  didn't  they  ?     AVhat  was  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  cost  too  much.  They  wrote  her  a  letter 
when  they  sent  it  back,  and  said  it  would  have 
cost  seven  cents  a  copy  to  produce  it,  and  they 
would  have  lost  money  on  the  book  at  that  rate." 

Mrs.  Lawrence  was  grieved  that  a  girl  should 
come  so  near  clipping  the  wings  of  glory,  and  yet 
fail  of  a  single  feather.  "  I'm  sure,"  she  said, 
"  they  sell  their  books  for  enough,  so  there's  no 
need  to  lose  any  money  on  them."  She  glanced 
over  at  the  boys,  who  had  abandoned  the  hunt  and 
were  filling  small  pails  with  gravel  in  the  road, 
and  again  felt  assured  of  their  safety. 

"  I  suppose  it's  the  author,"  suggested  Lydia,  in 
explanation.  "You  know  they  have  to  pay  the 
author  somethim>'  for  vrritinc;  the  book." 


96  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  That's  so,"  Mrs.  Lawrence  assented.  *•'  I  never 
thought  of  the  author  at  all." 

"  Oh,  some  of  them  get  immense  sums,  and  be- 
come wealthy,"  said  Lj^dia,  vivaciously.  "Not  all, 
but  some.  Some  of  them  don't  have  to  do  a  thing 
but  just  write  books,  so  you  can  see."  She  made 
an  impressive  pause. 

"  Yes,  I  see  now." 

"  Those  girl  reporters  expect  to  work  up  to 
that,"  Lydia  confided.  "After  they  get  fairly 
accustomed  to  the  business  of  writing,  they  will 
begin  doing  stories  and  verse  for  the  magazines, 
and  so  work  out  of  reporting.  Then  they  will 
write  books,  too.  Oh,  they  have  it  all  planned 
out  what  they  will  do,  and  I'm  sure  they  ought  to 
succeed,  they  are  so  enthusiastic !  " 

"  Oh,  I  do  hope  they  will  /  "  Mrs.  LaAvrence  ex- 
claimed ;  and  then  cast  another  look  abroad  for  the 
boys.  She  came  back  to  the  subject.  "It  is  an 
ambition — so  high !  I  do  not  forget,  although  that 
which  I  once  strove  to  be  is  now  impossible — far 
behind  me." 

"  But  I  am  sure  you  don't  regret  ? "  Lydia 
asked,  quickly.  She  knew  the  answer  before  it 
was  spoken. 

Milliccnt  looked  her  fairly  in  the  face,  and 
smiled.  "There  is  one  thing  better  than  an  am- 
bition," she  said,  softly.  "  One  does  not  have  to 
go  outside  the  army  for  it,  Lydia.  It  is  here.  Oh, 
have  I  not  seen " 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  97 

"  Oil,  Millicent,  don't — don't  suggest  that !  It 
may  happen  by  and  by — but  I  don't  want  to  be 
driven  to  it !  Just  now  I  want  to  look  outside  and 
be  miserable."  Her  lip  quivered  with  a  suspicion 
of  sorrow  for  a  thwarted  ambition. 

"  Stay  in  the  army — and  be  miserable  !  "  said 
Mrs.  Lawrence,  smiling  at  the  manifest  impossi- 
bility. She  looked  over  at  the  boys  again  for  proof 
of  her  own  hapj)iness. 

They  sat  together  on  the  ground.  One  had  the 
fingers  of  the  other  in  his  mouth,  and  was  worrying 
them  as  a  dog  a  bone.  On  the  face  of  the  victim 
was  a  mingling  of  pained  surprise  and  stubborn 
determination. 

Mrs.  Lawrence  sprang  to  her  feet  in  an  instant- 
"  Boys  !  "  she  cried.  "  Will !  Jack  !  What  are  you 
doing  ?     Come  here  this  instant !  " 

The  one  with  a  taste  for  fingers  released  his  hold, 
and  together  they  approached  the  maternal  knee. 

"What  were  you  doing  to  your  little  brother, 
Jack  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"Nothin',"  said  Jack,  stoutly.  "Only,  I  said  I 
could  make  him  cry  bitin'  his  fingers,  and  he  said 
I  couldn't.     That's  all." 

The  mother  threw  Lydia  a  swift  glance,  beseech- 
ing her  not  to  appear  amused.  "  Oh,  dear !  "  she 
said ;  "  this  isn't  Art ;  this  is  Nature." 

"  Now,  Jack,"  said  she  to  the  culprit,  who  bore 
himself  with  the  righteous  air  of  one  wrongly  ac- 
cused, "  it  was  very  wrong  of  you  to  bite  Will. 
7 


98  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

You  sliould  not  want  to  make  liim  cry.  I  am  go- 
ing to  bite  you  now,  just  as  you  bit  him."  She 
gave  a  tender  little  nip  at  his  fingers.  "  Did  that 
hurt  you  ?  "  she  asked,  trying  to  conceal  her  solici- 
tude. 

"  No,"  replied  Jack,  contemptuously. 

She  tried  it  again.  "  Did  it  hurt  then  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"No,"  said  Jack,  with  a  quaver  in  his  voice. 

She  cast  a  glance  of  mingled  pride  and  despair 
at  Lydia,  and  bit  the  small  fingers  once  more,  as 
hard  as  she  dared.  "  Did  that  hurt  you,  Jack  ?  " 
she  demanded. 

Jack's  lip  quivered  for  a  moment,  and  he  made 
no  ansAver.  Then  he  got  control  of  his  voice,  and 
turned  to  his  brother. 

"  I'm  sorry  I  bit  you.  Will,"  he  said. 

"  That  is  right.  Jack,"  said  his  mother,  gladly. 
"Now  I  am  sorry  I  bit  you.  And  tell  me,"  she 
added,  her  heart  accusing  her  of  having  abused  her 
offspring,  "  didn't  I  hurt  you  a  little  bit,  Jack  ?  " 

But  Jack,  having  abandoned  his  position  of  con- 
scious integrity,  now  cast  pride  to  the  winds.  He 
buried  his  face  in  her  lap,  and  sobbed  brokenly : 

"  No,  you  didn't  hurt  a  little  bit !  You  hurt  aw- 
ful !  " 

Lawrence,  coming  on  the  porch  just  then,  found 
the  boys  crying  together  harmoniousl}',  while  the 
two  women  smiled  mistily  and  comforted  them. 
"  AVhat's   this  ? "   he   asked.      "  Has  a    summary 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  99 

court  been  sitting?"  Tliey  told  him  the  affair, 
and  he  looked  properly  grave  and  relieved  as  the 
recital  proceeded  ;  for  the  eyes  of  the  boys  were 
upon  him. 

"  Millicent  has  a  fine  sense  of  justice,"  he  said, 
approvingly,  to  Lydia,  "but  I  suspect  her  some- 
times of  tempering  its  application  with  mercy. 
"When  she  punishes  the  boys,  she  suffers  too, 
which  is  a  shame,  for  she  doesn't  deserve  it. 
Come,  boys !  "  he  called,  briskly,  "  up  with  you ! 
There's  nothing  now  to  cry  about — for  you.  It's 
all  over.     Eun  along — hep  !  hep  !  hep  !  " 

The  boys  straightened  up  like  little  soldiers, 
they  caught  the  step  as  he  indicated  it,  and  they 
marched  away  to  some  new  game,  singing,  in  ca- 
dence— 

"  Tra  la  latldy,  tra  la  laddy, 
I'm  a  soldier  like  my  daddy  ..." 

Lawrence  stayed  but  a  moment,  pleading  duty 
with  a  board  of  survey  that  was  about  inspecting 
certain  commissary  stores. 

"  Mr.  Lawrence  is  very  busy  now,"  said  Mrs. 
Lawrence,  watching  his  stalwart  figure  across  the 
parade.  "Some  of  the  officers  being  absent  makes 
duty  harder  for  those  who  remain." 

Lydia  assented.  "  There  is  just  so  much  work 
to  be  done,  anyway.  Only  two  are  away  now,  I 
believe." 

"That's  all— Mr.  Ealph   and   Mr.   Spurbridge. 


100  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

Tliey  are  due  iu  a  few  days,  Mr,  Lawrence 
says." 

"  I  hope  tliey  have  had  good  luck." 

"  Shall  you  be  glad  to  see  them  back — or  either 
of  them  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Lawrence,  with  deep  mean- 
ing. 

"  Oh,  both  of  them,"  Lydia  made  haste  to  de- 
clare, without  prejudice.  "  They  are  both  pleasant. 
Mr.  Ralph  says  such  droll  things  —  takes  such 
views  of  everything !  Mr.  Spurbridge,  too,  can  be 
delightful,  but  as  a  rule  he  finds  fault.  One  would 
think  the  army  wasn't  good  enough  for  him  !  " 

"  He  hasn't  had  time  to  get  acciistomed  to  it 
yet,"  Mrs,  Lawrence  explained,  affably.  "I  can 
understand  how  that  might  be." 

"  You  always  liked  it,  didn't  you?  "  Lydia  asked, 
solicitously. 

"  Oh,  yes,  from  the  very  first ;  but  it  was  differ- 
ent with  me.  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  enjoy  my- 
self, and  everyone  did  everything  possible  to  please 
me.  But  an  officer  has  his  new  duties  to  attend 
to,  and  it  might  happen  that  he  wouldn't  like  all  of 
them.     He  will  get  used  to  it  in  time,  of  course." 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  said  Lydia, 
in  firm  loyalty  to  the  army.  "  I  never  had  to  get 
used  to  it,  for  I  was  born  to  it.  I  think  a  young 
man  who  gets  a  commission  should  consider  him- 
self fortunate." 

"I  hiow  a  young  woman  who  gets  a  commis- 
sion is  fortunate,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence,  laughing. 


OjV  the  offensive  101 

There  liad  been  onl}^  happiness  for  her  from  the 
day  she  first  saw  an  army  post,  and  her  outlook 
was  necessarily  optimistic.  "  One  feels  anxiety 
now  and  then  about  the  things  that  migld  happen  ; 
but  they  haven't  happened  with  me  yet,  and  the 
life  is  so  different  from  anything  else  that  it  quite 
makes  up." 

"I  am  glad  you  feel  that  way,  Millicent,"  said 
Lydia,  cordially.  "  That  fear  of  an  outbreak  is  a, 
dreadful  thing.  Mamma  and  I  have  known  it  all 
our  lives,  and  we  have  been  through  three  that 
papa  was  in.  But  then,  the  garrison  you  are  with 
makes  such  a  difference  most  of  the  time.  If  peo- 
ple are  pleasant,  I  mean,"  she  explained. 

"  I  know — whether  they  gossip  or  not.  It  seems 
to  me  we  haven't  a  gossip  in  the  regiment." 

"  I  believe  there  isn't  one,"  said  Lydia,  Avith  con- 
viction. "But  most  regiments  are  not  so  fortu- 
nate. The  — th,  that  was  here  before  us,  was  all 
divided  up  into  little  cliques,  and  half  the  officers 
and  ladies  didn't  speak  to  the  other  half.  They 
were  entertained  once  at  a  city  near  their  station, 
and  the  host  had  the  hardest  time  getting  congenial 
people  together !  Worst  of  all,  he  was  a  civilian, 
and  it  gave  him  a  bad  impression  of  the  army." 

"I  should  think  it  would,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence, 
with  quick  concern.  "  Strange  what  a  difference 
there  is  in  regiments  that  way.  What  do  you 
think  makes  it  ?  " 

"I  think  just  as  mamma  does,  that  a  gossipy 


102  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

regiment  is  the  fault  of  the  commanding  officer's 
wife.  You  know  all  the  ladies  look  to  her,  just  as 
ril  the  officers  do  to  her  husband." 

"  Yes,  I  Imow." 

"That  is  why  mamma  has  so  little  to  say  at 
gatherings  in  the  post,"  Lydia  continued.  "  She 
takes  just  as  warm  an  interest  in  the  regiment  as 
anybody,  and  she  keeps  a  watch  on  her  tongue  be- 
cause in  that  way  she  can  serve  the  regiment  best." 

"  Your  mother  is  a  good  Avonian,  Lydia." 

"  Yes  ;  and  aren't  you  glad  you  know  my  moth- 
er's daughter  ?  "  asked  Lydia,  quickly,  with  bird- 
like pertness.     Then  she  continued  : 

"  I  knew  a  two-company  post  once  where  there 
were  but  five  ladies.  You  might  suppose  they 
would  have  gotten  along  together,  if  merely  for 
mutual  protection." 

"  Don't  tell  me  they  didn't,"  Mrs.  Lawrence  im- 
plored. 

"  I  wish  I  didn't  have  to.  Those  five  women" 
— spreading  the  fingers  of  one  hand — "divided 
themselves  into  three  cliques  " — holding  up  three 
fingers  of  the  other  hand.  "  The  adjutant's  wife 
was  always  with  the  wife  of  the  commanding  offi- 
cer, currying  favor  with  her.  The  doctor's  wife 
and  the  wife  of  one  captain  were  indignant  at  the 
thought  of  friendship  on  such  terms,  and  made  a 
second  clique  ;  and  the  fifth  poor  woman  would 
neither  curry  favor  nor  side  with  those  who  were 
disloyal  to  the  leading  lady  of  the  regiment  pres- 


OK  THE  OFFENSIVE  103 

ent,  and  cliqued  alone.  At  least  I  was  witli  lier, 
though  but  a  little  girl — for  that  was  my  mother," 

Mrs.  Lawrence  was  shocked.  She  had  never 
experienced  anything  like  it,  and  had  usually 
scoffed  at  such  tales  ;  but  this  came  on  too  good 
authority  to  admit  of  question.  "  I  hope  it  ended 
there  ?  "  she  said,  tentatively. 

"  No  ;  it  hardly  could.  The  officers  listened  to 
their  wives  and  became  frigid  toward  each  other  ; 
and  then  the  infection  got  across  the  parade  into 
barracks,  so  that  the  men  of  the  two  companies 
were  constantly  fighting.  It  gave  the  regiment  a 
hard  name,  for  the  doctor's  wife  told  of  it  at  her 
next  station." 

"  No  woman  in  the  regiment  would  have  done 
so,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence,  disapjjrovingly. 

"  No,  indeed  !  They  would  have  gone  on  to 
their  dying  day,  insisting  their  regiment  was  the 
most  harmonious  in  the  service." 

"  Just  as  we  do  about  ours  ?  " 

"  Exactly — the  imitators  !  "  Lydia  laughed. 

"  Only  ours  really  is,"  added  Mrs.  Lawrence 
proudly,  as  one  unfurls  a  banner  of  special  signifi- 
cation and  regard. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Lj^dia,  with  decision. 
"  That's  what  we  said  in  the  first  place." 

Father  Brugan  walked  over  from  town  to  look 
after  the  spiritual  condition  of  barracks.  There 
was  no  chaplain  at  the  post — a  condition  approved 


104  ON  TEE  OFFENSIVE 

by  officers  with  families,  inasmucli  as  a  chaplain 
would  have  required  good  quarters,  and  some  of 
them  would  have  been  correspondingly  worse 
housed  ;  and  none  of  them  counted  on  receiving 
much  benefit  from  army  chaplains.  There  were 
two  or  three  Protestant  clergymen  in  town,  labor- 
ing with  meagre  handfuls  of  followers  in  the  hope 
that  churches  might  be  built  and  the  unregenerate 
thereby  saved.  They  seldom  came  to  the  Fort. 
Sometimes  officers  would  be  spurred  by  an  incom- 
prehensible force  to  attend  an  evening  service  ; 
but  this  happened  at  such  long  intervals  that  they 
could  not  be  deemed  supporters  of  the  church. 
Their  united  contributions  would  not  have  clothed 
a  single  heathen  for  a  year.  So  the  Protestant 
clergy  let  the  military  alone,  and  Father  Brugan 
had  a  monopoly. 

He  came  over  while  Lydia  and  Mrs.  Lawrence 
sat  on  the  porch,  and  made  a  little  round  of  paro- 
chial calls  among  the  poor  hovels  in  which  the  mar- 
ried soldiers  sheltered  their  families.  After  this 
he  came  in  front  of  barracks  and  looked  across  the 
parade.  Seeing  two  figures  on  an  opposite  porch 
he  came  toward  them  with  a  vigorous  stride  that 
devoured  the  distance.  The  two  women  saw  him 
before  he  was  half-way  across  ;  he  was  a  man  to 
attract  attention  anywhere. 

"  There  is  Father  Brugan.  He  is  coming  here, 
I  do  believe,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence,  with  a  little 
feminine  flutter  of  arrangement. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  105 

"  Yes,"  assented  Lydia.  "  See  tlie  way  he  walks 
across  there  !  Wouldn't  he  have  made  a  splendid 
officer  ?  " 

Mrs.  Lawrence  looked  at  her,  anxiously  inquir- 
ing ;   "  Are  you  sorry  he  is  not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed.  The  priesthood  needs  men 
as  well  as  the  army." 

Mrs.  Lawrence  breathed  easier,  but  still  she 
could  not  forego  a  sweet  word  of  caution  from 
the  store  of  wisdom  her  married  state  implied. 
"  Yes,  dear ;  but  you  must  remember  —  he  is  a 
priest." 

Lydia  looked  up  with  a  bit  of  impatience ;  it 
was  trying  that  Millicent  should  not  remember  her 
aversion.  It  seemed  that  her  mind  must  run  on 
love  and  marriage  simply  because  she  was  herself 
so  happily  married.  "Don't  fear,"  said  Lydia, 
somewhat  offended,  "  this  is  quite  Platonic.  His 
priestliness  is  one  thing  about  him  that  I  admire." 

Then  Father  Brugan  came  up  and  chatted  with 
them  for  five  minutes.  Because  of  Millicent's  ad- 
vice, Lydia  was  intentionally  pleasant  toward  him. 
She  was  wearied  of  the  restrictions  of  army  life, 
and  when  an  attempt  was  made  to  lay  more  upon 
her  she  became  desperate.  When  she  smiled  up- 
on the  priest  and  turned  an  attentive  ear  to  his 
voice,  her  conscience  did  not  reproach  her  for  the 
attitude  ;  she  would  have  done  nothing  in  defiance 
of  her  conscience.  Had  he  been  an  officer,  she 
might  with  propriety  have  gone  the  length  of  an 


106  OW  THE  OFFENSIVE 

innocent  little  flirtation ;  but  this  was  no  more 
than  an  unusual  effort  to  make  the  priest's  call 
pleasant,  for  which  Millicent  was  responsible. 

leather  Brugan  inquired  for  Lieutenant  Law- 
rence and  Colonel  Gerrish ;  he  told  of  his  calls 
upon  the  soldiers'  families ;  he  spoke  of  Ralph  and 
Spurbridge,  saying  he  iiked  them  and  enjoyed 
being  with  them.  He  found  Spurbridge  possessed 
of  a  constant  leaning  toward  what  was  good, 
and  was  glad,  for  he  had  yet  so  much  of  life  to 
learn ;  and  Ralf)h  he  delighted  in  as  a  man  of  abil- 
ity, brave  to  the  point  of  recklessness,  resolute  in 
the  forming  of  his  opinions,  and  yet  with  a  mod- 
esty that  was  as  a  cloak  over  the  whole — an  ob- 
streperous modesty,  the  priest  said.  Then  he  told 
of  llalph's  single-handed  attack  on  the  saloon,  of 
which  neither  had  heard.  Perhaps  he  addressed 
himself  more  particularly  to  Lydia,  as  she  ap- 
peared the  more  interested.  And  when  he  would 
have  excused  himself  and  gone  to  call  on  Colonel 
Gerrish,  she  waved  a  defiant  little  hand  at  Milli- 
cent and  walked  down  the  line  v.ith  him.  He  en- 
joyed this  very  much ;  for  he  did  not  possess  a 
wide  experience  with  women  outside  his  priestly 
duties,  and  this  was  as  novel  as  it  was  pleasant. 
As  they  went,  Millicent  felt  a  twinge  of  self-re- 
proach that  she  had  said  a  word  about  men  of  any 
degree,  in  any  sense,  to  Lj'dia.  She  said  this  to 
her  husband  when  he  came  back,  after  the  board 
of  survey  had  adjourned. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  107 

"What  roade  you  do  it,  tlien?"  lie  asked,  cen- 
soriously. 

"  Don't,  Fred,"  she  pleaded.  "  It's  bad  enough 
that  I  scold  myself ;  don't  make  it  worse.  But  I 
like  her  so  much  that  I  can't  help  feeling  an  inter- 
est in  her  happiness.  Oh,  dear  !  I  know  I  talk 
too  much,"  she  confessed. 

He  felt  great  pleasure  at  this  ingenuous  admis- 
sion. "  Well,"  said  he,  with  spirit,  "  if  you  know 
that,  there  is  great  hope.  Half  the  battle  lies  in 
finding  the  enemy's  weak  place.  Now  you've  done 
that,  you  know  the  next  thing  to  do.  But  you 
needn't  disturb  yourself,  dear,"  he  added,  aban- 
doning his  bantering  tone.  "  So  long  as  nothing 
worse  than  falling  in  love  happens  to  people,  they 
won't  blame  you ;  and  such  people  as  these  may 
be  safely  trusted  together  without  danger  of  even 
that.     It's  out  of  the  question  for  them." 

She  had^  been  looking  at  him  intently  as  he 
spoke,  and  apparently  drinking  in  every  word  as 
gospel.  Now  she  drew  a  happy  little  sigh  of  com- 
fort, and  said,  disconnectedly : 

"  Do  you  know,  Fred,  your  eyes  are  perfectly 
charming  to-day?  They  let  the  light  through 
from  side  to  side  like  opals,  and  are  clear  and 
bright.  Oh,  that  little  forage-cap — I  wish  you 
would  never  have  to  be  out  in  the  sun  with  it  on. 
It  doesn't  shade  your  eyes  a  particle."  She  fin- 
ished with  a  look  that  told  of  the  love  her  soul 
bore  him. 


108  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

Lawrence  sent  a  quick  glance  across  the  parade 
and  along  the  line,  and  decided  to  risk  it.  He 
caught  up  her  hand  and  put  it  to  his  lips  a  mo- 
ment. "  I  guess  that's  the  reason  you  spoke  to 
her ;  3-ou  are  happy  yourself,  little  woman."  He 
stopped,  and  laughed  contentedly.  "  Our  talk 
doesn't  seem  to  run  very  straight  in  words — touch 
and  look  have  a  good  deal  to  do  with  it— but  we 
understand  each  other  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Fred,"  she  said,  with  a  glad  smile.  Then 
she  gathered  herself,  and  looked  about  in  quick 
alarm.  "  Why,  what  has  become  of  the  boys !  " 
she  exclaimed. 


Those  pleasures  are  sweetest  that  are  snatched 
from  beneath  the  descending  sword.  The  last 
days  in  camp  were  thus  very  dear  to  Ealph  and 
Spurbridge.  They  were  taken  from  under  the 
very  shadow.  Having  concluded  their  hunting 
they  should,  morally,  have  returned  to  the  post; 
and  yet  they  had  a  technical  right  to  delay  the 
fall  extent  of  their  leave.  Both  had  reasons  for 
taking  advantage  of  this  right — and  they  delayed. 

The  nights  were  clear,  translucent  periods  when 
the  world  seemed  to  be  passing  through  a  sub- 
stance of  crystal.  The  depths  of  the  dark  heav- 
ens were  unflecked  by  floating  scud,  and  stars 
shone  serenely'from  space  to  space.  In  the  still- 
ness of  those  elemental  solitudes,  one  could  ap- 
prehend that  they  were  not  in  a  single  surface 
and  at  an  equal  distance  from  the  earth.  Under 
such  a  canopy,  punctured  by  glowing  spars  of 
light,  one  heard  no  inappropriate  sound  ;  there 
would  be  the  flowing  of  the  water  between  its  con- 
fining banks,  and  the  equally  liquid  flowing  of  the 
uncoufined  night  breeze  as  it  came,  tipped  with 
the  taste  of  ice,  to  one's  lips.     Here  they  lay  as 


110  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

close  to  the  earth  as  they  could  get,  in  the  deep 
unconsciousness  of  healthy  sleep. 

By  day  they  sat  beneath  a  warming  sun  that 
dissipated  the  frost-prints  of  the  night,  talking  or 
thinking.  Sometimes  they  would  pass  an  hour  to- 
gether without  a  word,  taking  nature  with  all  the 
luxury  of  a  cat  on  the  hearth-rug,  communing  per- 
haps in  thought  though  with  silent  lips.  They 
did  not  need  to  be  alwaj^s  talking  to  convince 
themselves  of  the  interest  they  felt  in  each  other. 

Spurbridge,  rather  susceptible  to  impressions  of 
this  sort,  once  spoke  to  Kalph  of  it.  They  had 
been  enjoying  a  silent  talk  all  the  morning,  appar- 
ently interested  only  in  the  mad  haste  of  the  water 
to  get  away  from  itself,  to  flow  between  broader 
bounds.  "  This  is  quite  like  friendshijj,  old 
man  ?  "  he  asked,  at  a  venture. 

Ralph  roused  himself  to  consider  the  point. 
"  You  mean,  to  sit  here  and  say  nothing  by  the 
hour  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes.  We  don't  have  to  talk.  My  idea  of  a 
friend  would  be  one  who  could  understand  your 
silence."  This  struck  him  as  a  very  pat  definition, 
and  he  waited  to  see  how  Kalph  would  take  it. 

"  That's  very  good,"  said  Ralph,  willing  to  Ini- 
mor  the  boy  in  his  fancied  originality.  "  None 
but  a  real  friend  could  do  that.  But  it  seems  to 
me  your  definition  is  incomplete — or  perhajDS  is 
applicable  only  to  special  cases." 

"What's  your  idea?" 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  111 

Kalph  picked  up  some  small  pebbles  and  threw 
them,  one  at  a  time,  at  a  particular  ripple,  as 
though  he  delighted  in  destroying  the  predestined 
form  of  the  water  at  that  point.  "  I  should  say, 
one  who,  when  asked  about  your  past,  always  re- 
plies, '  I  don't  know,'  "  he  answered. 

"  Well,  that's  good,  too,"  said  Spurbridge,  "  but 
I  think  it's  more  special  in  its  application  than 
mine.  Some  people  have  pasts  they  are  not 
ashamed  to  have  exploited." 

*'I  suppose  I  Avas  thinking  of  my  own  case 
when  I  spoke,"  said  Ealph,  with  a  touch  of  bitter- 
ness. 

"  Oh !  "  Spurbridge  exclaimed,  disapprovingly. 
Ralph's  cynicism  had  been  much  less  pronounced 
during  the  trip  than  at  any  time  since  they  had 
known  each  other,  and  Spurbridge  was  soiTy  to 
see  this  outcropping,  now  that  the  trip  was  nearly 
finished.  "  Don't  encourage  such  an  opinion  of 
yourself,"  he  protested.  ''  There  are  none  to  share 
it  with  you." 

Ralph  laughed  joylessly.  "  That's  where  you 
fool  yourself,"  he  said.  "  There's  one  too  many, 
anyway." 

"  You  have  no  lousiness  to  he  flirting  Avith  the 
blue  devils,"  Spurbridge  continued,  valiantly. 

Ralph  looked  at  him  as  though  he  disliked  the 
flirtation,  and  Avould  be  glad  to  be  relieved  of  it. 
"I  do  talk  like  a  fellow  just  getting  over  a  big 
drunk,  don't  I  ?  "  he  said,  in  disdain  of  himself. 


112  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

*'  Like  a  fellow  when  he's  loaded  down  with  re- 
morse, and  is  trying  to  make  himself  believe  he'll 
never  be  such  an  ass  again.  But  it  isn't  at  all 
likely  that's  my  fix  now  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  not." 

"  I  believe  you,"  replied  Kalph,  dropping  his 
anxious  tone  and  assuuiing  one  of  deep  fatality. 
"It  is  far  more  likely  that  I  am  about  to  begin 
one  of  fabulous  dimensions."  He  threw  a  whole 
handful  of  pebbles  at  the  ripple,  creating  a  Avide 
disturbance.  "You  see  the  water  runs  on  the 
same  as  it  did  before  ? "  he  added,  a  moment 
later. 

Spurbridge  looked  up  in  contention,  and  his 
hands  opened  and  closed  nervously. 

"Why  not?  "  demanded  Ralph,  almost  fiercely. 
"  A  man  breaks  into  the  current  of  his  life  for  a 
little  time,  but  he  knows  it  will  run  on  just  the 
same  as  soon  as  he  gives  up — which  he  is  bound 
to  do.  And  a  man  don't  nurse  a  juicy  thirst  a 
month  all  for  nothing  !  These  things  come  around 
in  cycles,  Spurbridge,  and  when  you  get  so  you  can 
alter  the  orbit  of  a  planet,  you  may  hope  to  alter 
that.  I'm  no  blasted  exception,  either,"  he  added, 
flirting  gravel  about  aimlessly.  "  It  will  be  the 
same  with  any  of  the  men.  They'll  all  feel  the 
need  of  a  little  relaxation  after  this  month  of  absti- 
nence. Gavin's  in  your  company,  isn't  he  ?  Good 
man,  too — but  he  will  do  the  same.  So  be  easy 
on  them,  you  theoretical  martinet !    It's  something 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  113 

they  can't  help  any  more  than  I  can."  He  was 
fiercely  impatient  with  himself,  and  with  a  fate 
against  which  he  felt  a  struggle  useless. 

"  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  say  that,"  Spurbridge 
remonstrated,  in  the  tone  of  one  who  believes  suf- 
fering and  wrong  exist  simply  because  the  fact  of 
their  existence  is  admitted. 

Ralph  twisted  his  mustache  impatiently.  "Oh, 
well,  stop  your  ears  and  don't  listen !  Shut  your 
eyes  and  don't  see !  The  water  will  run  just  the 
same.  You  are  doing  as  a  certain  class  of  very 
good  people  have  been  doing  ever  since  the  begin- 
ning of  time,"  he  added,  exculpating  Spurbridge 
from  individual  fault,  "but  the  fact  of  it  is,  these 
things  are  ;  and  ignoring  them  doesn't  change  the 
condition  one  iota." 

"  I'm  not  ignoring  anything,"  Spurbridge  hast- 
ened to  deny.  "  I'll  admit  the  existence  of  drunk- 
enness and  crime  as  quickly  as  anybody.  It  isn't 
always  pleasant  to  have  these  things  forced  upon 
one's  attention  " — Ralph  laughed  in  his  throat — 
"  but  they're  there,  of  course.  No,  I  don't  ignore 
— I  simply  deplore.  And  most  I  object  to  anyone 
sitting  down  and  saying  that  it  will  be  so,  and  that 
it's  no  use  to  fight  against  it." 

"  Why,  this  is  getting  personal,  isn't  it  ?  "  asked 
Ralph,  critically. 

Spurbridge  fidgeted  beneath  his  cool  glance. 
"  AVell,  measurably — yes,"  he  admitted. 

"  I  thought  so,"  Ralph  spoke  kindly  enough. 
8 


114  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  Well,  that  is  good  talk  for  one  who  is  young 
enough  to  have  enthusiasm  and  faith." 

"  "What's  the  matter  with  your  age  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  calendar  has  nothing  to  do  with  it," 
Ralph  said.  "  But  it's  a  good  pose  ;  I  like  to  see 
it — and  I  haven't  a  doubt  but  I  was  once  as  much 
of  a  fanatic  as  anyone.  But  I  got  over  it,  and  now 
I'm  not  egotistic  enough  to  fancy  I  can  get  the 
best  of  fate.  What  Avill  be,  will  be.  I  should 
think,  Spurbridge,  you  had  been  in  the  army  long 
enough  to  accept  that." 

"Well,  I  haven't,"  Spurbridge  answered,  sturdily. 
"  And  if  that's  a  sine  qua  noit  of  the  service,  I  shall 
just  have  to  get  out,  I'm  going  up  to  camp,"  he 
added,  brusquely  dismissing  the  subject.  "I  got 
a  whiflt'  of  frying  bacon  a  minute  ago.     Coming  ?  " 

They  went  back  to  camp  side  by  side,  barely 
speaking  the  rest  of  the  way.  The  familiar  tents 
and  figures  of  the  men  came  before  them  siiddenly 
over  the  rise. 

"  What's  your  idea  of  a  friend  now,  Spur- 
bridge ?  "  asked  Ralph,  suddenly. 

Spurbridge  stopped  to  consider,  and  the  two 
men  looked  into  each  other's  eyes.  "  One  who  will 
respect  your  confidences,"  he  said.     "  Yours?  " 

"  One  to  whom  confidences  can  be  made." 

Spurbridge  claj^ped  him  on  the  back.  "  Good ! 
Those  definitions  come  together  like  the  leaves  of 
a  hinge.  Come  on  now !  This  is  the  last  dinner 
in  the  open.     To-morrow  we  go  to  parade." 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  115 

Spurbridge  had  thought  he  would  put  on  paper 
some  of  the  events  of  the  trip.  It  had  been  au 
epoch  with  him.  He  would  write  of  it  to  his 
mother,  and  hoped  he  could  command  its  atmos- 
phere. She  had  told  him  of  the  shifts  his  father 
had  been  put  to  in  the  war — how  he  used  to  write 
to  her  on  a  drum-head.  He  thought  of  this  and 
wished  hazily  that  he  might  have  what  the  drum- 
head implied.  He  had  no  warlike  details  to  give 
her,  but  there  were  others  he  would  make  quite  as 
interesting  :  how  he  had  killed  the  first  deer ; 
how  he  was  lost  and  found  again  in  one  day ;  of 
the  Thanksgiving  dinner  they  ate  in  the  depth  of 
a  little  canon,  when  everything  was  devoured  and 
the  whole  party  had  to  hunt  with  firm  intent  and 
purpose  before  there  could  be  another  meal.  And 
then  there  was  the  litter  of  camp,  and  its  scents— 
the  smell  of  cooking,  of  teams,  of  flannel  clothing, 
of  rifle  oil,  of  the  earth — all  shot  through  and  spiced 
with  the  breeze  of  morning.  He  wished  he  might 
give  her  the  flavor  of  that.  But  writing  on  a  pad 
held  on  the  knee  was  more  uncomfortable  than 
the  drum-head  even,  and  as  they  were  so  near  the 
post  he  decided  to  give  it  over  until  they  should 
arrive.  Then  he  could  write  comfortably,  and  at 
any  length. 

He  had  taken  some  notes,  for  he  had  quite  an 
idea  of  making  the  trip  a  basis  for  letters  to  news- 
papers also.  He  had  an  instinct  for  the  pen,  and 
thought  he  would  like  to  spend  all  his  spare  time 


IIG  07f  THE  OFFENSIVE 

ill  writing  for  publication.  The  instinct  was  crude, 
undeveloped;  but  there  had  been  writers  in  his 
family — authors,  he  said  when  speaking  of  them — 
and  he  hoped  he  shared  their  peculiar  talent.  A 
consideration  of  this  entered  into  his  decision  to 
content  himself  with  notes  for  the  present,  and  to 
postpone  their  elaboration  until  he  could  get  into 
his  quarters  and  be  surrounded  by  conveniences. 
There  he  hoped  to  do  himself  justice — write  some- 
thing that  somebody  would  print. 

Two  days  shot  by  like  arrows  from  the  bow  of 
Time,  The  men  drowsed  through  hours  of  golden 
sunlight,  slept  through  hours  of  silvery  starlight. 
The  leaves  of  the  pecan-trees  had  yellowed  and 
fallen  in  beds  on  the  ground.  The  nuts  were  to 
be  had  for  the  gathering.  Quail  ran  about  the 
little  thickets,  and  chirped  and  peeped  fearlessly. 
The  men  blinked  under  their  worn  fatigue-hats, 
and  lounged  contentedly.  It  takes  the  true  sol- 
dier to  lounge.  As  he  is  capable  of  the  most 
racking  exertions,  so  he  is  capable  of  degrees  of 
rest  above  other  men.  His  work  is  cut  to  his 
hand ;  he  need  give  himself  no  care  for  the  mor- 
row; he  fights  at  the  word  of  command,  and  is 
unconcerned  as  to  when  that  word  shall  be  given ; 
his  life  is  rounded  for  him,  and  he  has  but  to  take 
it  as  it  comes.  To  live  and  die  a  soldier — that  is 
very  easy.  All  things  necessary  to  this  life  are 
provided  him,  and  in  return  he  has  but  to  die,  and 
the   account  is   squared.      It  is  a  simple  system 


O.V  THK  OFFENSIVE  117 

of  book-keeping,  and  gives  satisfaction  to  both 
parties. 

The  third  day  held  both  regret  and  triumph. 
It  was  the  end — that  was  the  first  thought  in 
the  morning.  Gavin  prepared  the  last  breakfast ; 
tents  were  folded  away  in  the  wagon;  the  white 
canvas  cover  was  drawn  over  the  wagon  bows ; 
and  the  work  of  decoration  began.  The  antlered 
heads  of  deer  were  secured  along  the  sides,  and 
showed  up  bravely  against  the  white  cover ;  corre- 
sponding white  tails  were  hung  at  the  headstalls  of 
the  mules,  and  were  certainly  worn  with  a  flaunt- 
ing air  of  coquettish  pride.  They  took  iip  the  line 
of  march  for  the  post ;  that  was  their  regret. 

The  mules  shook  out  a  rattling  gait,  knowing 
that  home  was  just  over  the  hill.  Soon  the  men, 
straining  their  eyes,  could  make  out  the  flag  flying 
at  the  top -mast,  and  pointed  it  out  to  each  other. 
Ralph  looked  at  it  and  nodded.  "  There's  the 
flag,"  he  said,  quietly,  keeping  his  eyes  on  it. 
Spurbridge  felt  like  a  returning  wanderer  in  for- 
eign lands.  For  twenty  days  he  had  not  seen  it, 
and  before  that  it  had  been  before  him  so  con- 
stantly that  he  had  disregarded  it.  His  heart 
swelled  at  the  sight,  and  he  realized  more  than 
ever  the  privilege  of  bearing  a  sword  beneath  that 
banner.  But  he  only  nodded,  as  Ralph  had  done, 
and  said,  "  Yes,  there  it  is."  It  was  not  well  for  a 
man  who  bore  a  sword  to  talk  much  about  his 
emotions. 


118  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

Then  came  triumph.  The  big  gate  of  the  post 
opened  to  receive  them,  and  they  rolled  within  the 
fenced  inclosure  and  down  the  officers'  line,  with 
men  looking  enviously  on  from  barracks,  and  peo- 
ple coming  out  on  the  porches  to  wave  a  glad 
welcome  at  them.  lialph  and  Spurbridge  went  at 
once  to  their  quarters  to  get  the  stain  of  wander- 
ing from  their  persons  ;  for  all  officers  made  it  a 
point  in  garrison  to  ai)pear  unacquainted  with  the 
camp,  and  to  look  as  trig  and  bandboxy  as  uni- 
forms could  make  them. 

But  before  they  had  time  to  look  about  them 
other  officers  came  hurrying  in,  as  if  to  revel  in 
their  dilapidated  appearance,  but  really  to  ask  if 
they  had  luck,  and  how  much,  and  where  they 
w'ent,  and  who  got  the  most  game,  and  to  punctu- 
ate the  whole  with  shouts  of  gladness  and  deep 
acclaims  of  "Well!  well!  well!"  And  when  at 
length,  in  Ralph's  phrase,  they  had  succeeded  in 
"policing"  themselves,  they  invited  the  curious 
officers  over  to  look  at  the  w^agon-load  of  game. 
There  was  the  proof  of  their  skill  and  endeavor. 
And  then  choice  cuts  were  sent  to  every  house  on 
the  line  with  the  comjDliments  of  these  able  Nim- 
rods,  and  the  companies  came  in  for  halves  and 
quarters  of  venison.  For  a  day  there  Avas  no  occa- 
sion for  the  visits  of  the  contract  butcher,  and  the 
garrison  rejoiced  toothsomely  at  the  interlude  to 
many  consecutive  courses  of  beef,  pork,  and  mut- 
ton.    Ralph  cynically  took  a  laugh  to  himself  at 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  119 

siglit  of  the  entire  garrison  sitting  down  to  veni- 
son it  had  neither  earned  nor  bought.  He  said 
nothing;  he  rather  enjoyed  saying  nothing;  but 
he  was  certainly  gladdened  by  the  appreciation 
shown  for  his  deer  and  turkey.  And  it  was  with 
an  assumption  of  superiority  that  both  he  and 
Spurbridge  declined  second  helpings,  and  pro- 
fessed a  cloyed  appetite  and  a  desire  for  the  unap- 
preciated domestic  meats  of  the  butcher. 

Pay-day  had  gone  while  the  party  was  away, 
and  the  pay  of  the  men  had  been  given  to  their 
captains  for  them.  They  lost  no  time  in  calling 
for  it,  and  it  was  handed  to  them  with  no  more 
than  a  word  of  caution.  It  was  theirs  to  do  with 
as  they  pleased.  It  did  not  come  within  a  cap- 
tain's province  to  prevent  their  making  a  bad  use 
of  the  money,  but  only  to  punish  them  when  such 
use  became  prejudicial  to  good  order  and  military 
discipline. 

In  the  end  of  daylight  Gavin,  Killeen,  and  Eob- 
inson  were  seen  going  away  from  the  post. 
"  They  are  ahead  of  me,"  murmured  Ralph,  bit- 
terly, in  contempt  of  his  own  weakness.  "  I  start 
from  scratch,  but  I'll  beat  them  in,  probably." 

When  three  soldiers  return  to  society  after  a 
month's  absence  in  the  depths  of  the  world,  and 
find  a  month's  pay  in  their  unaccustomed  pockets, 
they  forthwith  resolve  to  call  on  all  their  acquain- 
tances in  a  single  night.  The  first  they  meet  will 
be  effusively  glad  to  see  them  ;  and  after  that  the 


120  0^'^  THE  OFFENSIVE 

niercnry  of  the  greeting  will  steadily  fall — for  the 
mouej  iu  the  pockets  of  the  three  will  as  steadily 
decrease — until  it  becomes  negative.  This  will  be 
at  the  saloon  of  the  last  acquaintance,  and  nothing 
remains  but  to  kick  the  three  into  the  street. 
Sometimes  a  sound  beating  may  first  be  adminis- 
tered to  each  ;  but  that  will  be  in  their  quality  as 
soldiers,  and  not  as  acquaintances. 

"What  did  th'  old  woman  say  to  you  about  it, 
Killeen  ?  "  Gavin  demanded,  as  the  trio  marched 
with  a  firm  step  to  the  First  and  Last  Chance.  It 
was  the  first  saloon  as  you  approached  town,  the 
last  as  you  went  away. 

"  She  said  nothin',''  replied  Killeen,  with  a  grin. 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  inquired  Eobinson,  in  sarcastic 
surprise.  "  She  must  have  changed  mightily  since 
we  went  out." 

"  She  has  not.  'Tis  I  tliot's  changed.  I  nivver 
tuk  me  rifle  an'  accout'mints  home  after  parade. 
I  lift  'em  in  H  company  barricks." 

Gavin  roared  in  delight,  pounding  his  comrade 
between  the  shoulder-blades.  "  Ah-h-h  !  Now 
you're  learnin'  th'  principles  av  strategy  !  " 

They  ranged  themselves  expectantly  at  the  bar, 
and  the  master  of  the  glasses  beamed  upon  them. 
"Ah,  boys!  You've  a  fine  color  off  the  plains. 
It's  long  since  I  set  eyes  on  you.  Well,  whatll  it 
be  ?  " 

They  looked  at  each  other,  and  at  him.  "  Are 
you  settin'  'em  up  ?  "  said  they. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  121 

"I  am  that.  You  don't  get  back  from  a  long 
trip  every  da}".     I  want  to  hear  about  it." 

They  drank  at  his  expense,  and  then  at  their 
ovm..  By  that  time  their  terse  accounts  had  been 
given.  When  they  paid  the  reckoning,  they  never 
thought  of  counting  the  change,  but  crammed  into 
their  pockets  whatever  was  given  them  ;  for  the 
barkeeper  was  their  friend.  Such  confidence  in 
humankind  deserves  better  recompense  than  it 
usually  receives. 

They  left  the  First  and  Last  Chance  with  a  step 
that  made  up  in  height  what  it  lacked  in  length. 
It  was  more  of  a  flighty  hop  than  a  trained  march- 
ing pace.  They  came  next  to  the  Gray  Mule. 
Their  reception  was  kind,  but  curt.  "  Howdy,  boys ; 
what  is  it  ?  "     They  paid  for  it. 

Then  they  visited  the  Moss  Rose,  the  Bank 
Exchange,  Albert  and  Charley,  and  the  Cactus. 
That  took  them  to  the  head  of  the  avenue,  and  they 
turned  do\\m  the  street  that  cornered  into  it.  Their 
step  Vas  neither  a  hop  nor  a  pace  ;  it  Avas  irregular 
and  hu'cliing.  The  avenue  brand  of  private  soldier 
whiskey  permitted  a  man  to  walk  steadily  but  a 
short  time.  There  was  but  one  grade  more  deadly ; 
that  was  the  sort  sold  on  the  street. 

They  wandered  down  the  street,  arm  in  arm, 
Avith  vague  attempts  at  song.  Some  people  made 
way  for  them  ;  some  deliberately  insulted  them  ; 
some  followed  them  as  buzzards  do  an  animal  that 
is  about  to  lie  down  and  die.     It  was  well  into  the 


122  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

evening,  and  those  who  were  abroad  were  for  the 
most  part  prowlers  and  illegal  livers.  The  broad 
moon  tilled  the  street  with  white  light  that  was 
turned  to  yellow  before  the  windows  of  saloons. 
Gaming  houses  stood  open  to  the  street,  and  the 
click  of  chips  and  the  whirr  of  a  wheel  mingled 
with  hoarse,  intermittent  cries  like,  "  Seventeen  in 
the  black,  and  nobody  there  !  "  When  the  soldiers 
tried  to  gamble,  they  quickly  lost  ;  they  were 
thought  so  drunk  that  it  was  not  worth  while  to 
spend  time  in  playing  them.  After  each  disas- 
trous attempt  they  came  out  again  and  stumbled 
on,  bent  upon  visiting"  each  resort. 

On  through  black  shadow  and  white  moonlight 
to  the  yellow  spaces  that  drew  them  as  surely  as  a 
candle  the  moth.  They  bubbled  and  guttered  in 
their  thickening  talk  and  laughter.  Robinson  sang. 
Killeen  was  now  and  then  convulsed  with  mirth  as 
he  thought  how  he  had  outwitted  his  wife.  "  'Twas 
th'  soul  av  strategy,"  he  reiterated,  with  unantici- 
pated hiccoughs.  "  She  won't  mind  ;  there's  th' 
wage  av  Kitty.  'Tis  enough,  so  slie  won't  begrutch 
me  drop." 

Gavin  told  his  companions  over  and  over  again 
that  he  did  not  drink.  They  had  laughed  at  first, 
and  he  had  caught  an  idea  that  it  was  a  good  joke, 
so  he  kept  repeating  it.  "  I  ain't  drinkin'  a  thing, 
boys,"  he  said.  "  You  know  I  don't  drink.  I  send 
me  money  to  me  mother.  It's  all  she's  'got.  Me 
mother's  boy  wouldn't  drink."     He  said  it  so  many 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  123 

times  that  it  passed  from  a  joke  to  a  fact,  and  lie 
believed  it  and  ^yas  angry  that  his  companions  paid 
no  more  attention  to  it.  "  It's  so !  "  he  shouted. 
"  You  fellows  haven't  got  a  mother.  You  niver  had, 
nor  father  neither !  I've  got  wan,  and  I  sind  her 
money  !  "     He  shrieked  it  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

"  Be  still,  you  drunken  fool,"  warned  Robinson. 
"  Don't  you  see  I'm  singing  ?  " 

They  pitched  heavily  into  the  Silver  Moon  and 
drank  again.  Some  painted  creature  was  on  a 
raised  platform,  singing  a  sentimental  ditty  in  a 
dry  bone  of  a  voice,  devoid  of  all  flesh  of  expres- 
sion. AYhen  they  got  outside  again,  Robinson  be- 
gan to  cry.  ' '  I  had  a  girl  once,"  he  moaned.  "  She 
used  to  sing  me  that  song.  It  was  a  pretty  song 
then.  But  she's  dead  now,  an'  I'm  drunk !  Oh, 
I'm  drunk,  my  God !  my  God !  "  He  blubbered, 
and  fleered  his  arms  aloft  in  anguish. 

Killeen  shook  a  finger  in  drunken  wisdom.  "  It's 
a  dom  sight  better ;  you  might  'a'  had  to  leave  y'r 
'cout' mints  in  H  comp'ny  whin  ye  went  t'  get  a 
drink,"  he  said.  "  Nivver  min'.  There's  Kitty. 
She'll  give  th'  ol'  woman  her  wage." 

"What's  the  matter  with  you!"  roared  Gavin, 
wildly.  "I  don't  drink  !  You  know  it !  You're  a 
liar!"  They  had  all  stopped  in  the  street,  and 
were  shouting  madly  at  one  another. 

Robinson  grasped  Gavin  by  the  shoulder  me- 
nacingly. Some  onlookers  laughed,  for  they 
thouf^iht  the  soldiers  were  about  to  fight  each  other. 


V24:  O?,^  THE  OFFENSIVE 

*'  Dog  eat  dog,"  they  said,  appreciatively,  waiting 
for  the  fracas  to  begin. 

Kobinson  forgot  to  strike,  and  became  maudlin. 
"  I  say,  that's  a  good  song,"  he  declared,  hanging 
his  chin  over  Gavin's  shoulder,  "  a  good  song — 
but  she's  dead  now.  She's  dead  and  I'm  drunk. 
What's  the  diff'runce  ?  Oh,  God  !  I  wish  I  was 
dead  !  " 

Killeen  bubbled  with  fragments  of  words. 
"  She's  drunk  and  you're  dead.  Aw,  God !  I 
wish  I  was  drunk !  "  He  caught  hold  of  Eobiu- 
sou  and  swayed  about  him  in  glee.  The  onlookers 
cursed  out  their  disapprobation,  and  went  away  ; 
there  was  now  no  likelihood  of  a  light,  and  drunk- 
en soldiers  were  so  common  as  to  have  lost  the 
charm  of  novelty. 

Gavin  broke  from  the  detaining  hold  of  the  two 
and  led  the  way  to  the  Legal  Tender.  "  Come 
on  an'  drink,"  he  invited,  hospitably.  "  I'll  watch 
you  fellers.  I  don't  drink,  you  know — no  more'n 
Leftenant  Ealpli — bully  little  feller  !     Come  on  !  " 

Killeen  caught  at  the  name  with  delight. 
"Lef'nint  Ealph  —  hooray  "l  He'd  fight  till  hell 
froze  over — an'  drink,  too !  He  would  thot !  I 
know  'im  !  An'  say — say."  He  became  confiden- 
tial with  the  oifensiveness  of  a  very  drunken  man. 
"He's  going  to  git  married  t'  tli'  old  man's  girl.  I 
know  !  Kitty  says  so.  She's  a  good  girl,  Kitty — 
gives  her  wage  to  'er  mother." 

"  Well,  let's  drink."     Gavin  pushed  them  toward 


ox  THE  OFFENSIVE  125 

the  bar  till  they  were  stojiped  by  a  belligerent  man 
who  stood  in  the  w^ay. 

"  Get  out  o'  here  !  "  he  shouted  at  them.  "  None 
o'  yer  damn  blue  coats  in  here  !  This's  a  gentle- 
man's place.  See  ? "  He  caught  them  by  the 
shoulders,  and  kicked  and  pushed  them  along. 
The  men  sitting  about  jeered  as  they  fell  through 
the  doorway  and  sprawled  over  the  path  outside. 

They  were  partly  sobered  by  the  insult,  and 
picked  themselves  up  without  trouble.  "  Be  we 
goin'  to  stand  that  ?  "  demanded  Robinson,  hotly. 

"  You  bet  we  ain't,"  Killeen  frothed.  "  We'll 
git  H  company  an'  clean  the  place  out.  My  gun's 
up  there,"  he  labored  to  explain. 

Gavin  laughed  sillily.  "  "We  didn't  get  that 
drink.  Come  on.  This  ain't  th'  only  s'loon  in 
town." 

They  staggered  on,  making  sharp  angles  as  they 
tacked  wearily  over  the  sidewalk.  The  door  of 
the  White  Elephant  was  ajar  to  swallow  them,  and 
they  passed  within.  The  place  was  crowded,  be- 
ing the  most  popular  saloon  in  town.  Just  as 
they  came  in  two  men  had  begun  a  quarrel  in  front 
of  the  bar,  and  the  crowd  had  suddenly  dived  un- 
der tables  and  behind  one  another's  backs  ;  but 
the  barkeeper  had  leaped  over  the  bar,  come  be- 
tween the  two,  and  grasped  a  hand  of  each  before 
they  had  time  to  pull  a  trigger.  He  laughed  in 
their  faces,  till  they  became  ashamed  of  their  ill- 
temper  and  drank  together  in  a  new  cementing  of 


126  ON  THE   OFFENSIVE 

friendship.  Over  on  the  platform  the  shoi't, 
chunky  musician  of  the  place  never  stopped  rat- 
tling the  keys  of  the  piano  in  a  dancing  measure. 
There  were  men  at  the  billiard  and  pool  tables, 
and  several  minor  gamblers  had  little  crowds  tak- 
ing the  slender  chances  offered  them.  The  at- 
mosj)here  was  heavy  and  blue  with  foul  tobacco 
smoke,  which  in  the  struggling  rays  of  the  oil- 
lamps  became  a  yellow  mist. 

The  three  soldiers  announced  their  arrival  by  a 
crescendo  shriek.  "  This's  th'  place  f'r  us  !  "  they 
cried.  The  barkeeper,  his  face  still  set  in  the 
smile  he  had  assumed  between  the  two  men  who 
wanted  to  murder  each  other,  came  toward  them. 
"  Three  shots  f'r  us  !  "  shouted  Gavin.  "  Eed  lik 
ker  an'  a  lot  of  it !  We  ain't  had  a  drink  in  a 
month  !  " 

They  poured  out  their  glasses  with  nervous 
hands,  spilling  liquor  lavishly  on  the  dark  wood  of 
the  bar.  Killeen,  standing  in  the  middle,  rolled 
his  eyes  about  the  place,  and  then  drove  an  elbow 
into  the  ribs  of  each  man.  "  Say,  there's  Left'nint 
Ralph,"  he  whispered,  giggling  in  drunken  merri- 
ment. "  He's  a  gay  wan  to  marry  th'  colonel's 
girl.     Bully  f'r  'im,  though  !     Hooray  !  " 

Kalph  was  seated  near  a  table,  watching  the 
game  on  it.  Occasionally  he  placed  a  bet  with 
the  grave  care  of  intoxication.  His  face  shone  red 
with  exposure  and  the  heat,  external  and  internal, 
of  the  place.     The  game  Avas  relentlessly  against 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  127 

liim.  Killeeu  watched  his  fight  against  gambler 
methods  from  afar.  "  He's  th'  sort  o'  mon  I'd  like 
to  drink  to,"  he  declared,  ribbing  his  comrades 
again. 

Somebody  caught  Gavin  by  the  shoulder,  and 
swung  him  round.  "  Say,  my  gay  young  buck,  can 
you  fight  ?  "  he  demanded,  in  a  rollicking  tone. 

"  That's  what  I  can  !  "  Gavin  declared,  with 
unnecessary  emphasis.  He  had  a  reputation 
throughout  barracks  for  the  gloves. 

"  Then  go  up  there  and  get  Bool,  that  fellow  at 
the  piano,  to  box  with  you.  We'll  make  it  worth 
your  while." 

"  Hold  me  hat ! "  yelled  Gavin,  flinging  it  in 
the  air,  and  making  a  dash  to  the  platform.  The 
crowd  laughed  approvingly  ;  it  was  in  the  mood 
for  witnessing  something  brutal.  He  sjjoke  to 
Bool,  but  the  pianist  shook  his  head.  Gavin  came 
back  alone.  "  He  says  he  won't,"  he  explained 
from  the  edge  of  the  platform. 

The  crowd  jeered  at  him.  "Try  him  again," 
said  they,  "  he'll  box  fast  enough.  You're  afraid 
of  getting  done  up !  Pull  him  off  the  stool  and 
make  him  stand  up  to  3'ou  !  Show  your  Irish, 
now  !  "  They  flung  phrases  at  him  thick  and  fast. 
Robinson  and  Killeen  shook  their  ponderous  fists 
as  a  menace  for  his  failure.  He  caught  Ralph's 
eye,  and  saw  encouragement  in  it.  That  decided 
the  matter  for  him.  "  I'll  make  'im  box !  "  he 
cried,  and  tore  away  to  Bool  again. 


128  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  Stop  murtlieriu'  tli'  piano  and  stand  up  to  a 
mon  av  y'r  size  !  "  he  implored.  "  I'm  fair  dyiu' 
to  do  ye,  an'  I  can  do  that  same  !  " 

Bool  barely  looked  at  him.  "  Get  out,"  he  said, 
without  stopping  his  tune.  "  You  ain't  in  my 
class.  I'd  tackle  a  Chinese  laundryman  sooner'n 
you.     He'd  have  more  of  a  show." 

Gavin  looked  around,  and  saw  Balpli  close  by 
him.  He  shook  his  head  in  a  discouraged  way, 
and  Ralph  beckoned. 

"  Look  here,  Gavin,"  said  he,  excitedly,  "  you 
can't  drop  this  thing  now,  you  know.  Make  him 
fight!  Insult  him.  Slap  his  face.  AVe're  all 
standing  by  you,  and  you  can't  go  back  on  us,  I 
know  you're  a  good  man,  but  you've  got  to  prove  it 
to  the  crowd.  Show  what  sort  of  a  soldier  you 
are,  now,"  and  he  caught  Gavin's  hand  in  a  warm 
pressure  of  confidence. 

Gavin  daringly  saluted  his  officer.  "  I  guess 
we'll  have  to  have  a  scrap  now,  lef tenant,"  he 
said  with  an  air  of  soldierly  determination.  Then 
he  went  over  to  Bool  again- 

"  Will  ye  stand  up  to  me  now  ?  "  he  shouted  ; 
and  he  swung  his  arm  around  and  slapped  Bool 
in  the  face. 

The  crowd  was  captivated  by  this  diplomatic 
course ;  for  diplomacy  is  sometimes  as  necessary 
to  bring  on  a  fight  as  to  avoid  one.  There  had 
been  some  suspicion  of  the  pluck  of  the  soldier, 
but   when   he   invited   conflict   by   such   decisive 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  129 

measures  the  tide  of  feeling  turned  in  his  favor. 
Kalph  grinned  in  satisfaction  and  retired  to  a  con- 
venient seat  from  which  to  witness  the  contest.  A 
space  was  being  cleared  and  men  were  crying  bets 
on  one  and  the  other  in  an  incredibly  short  time. 

Gavin  flung  off  his  blouse  and  danced  about  in 
a  wild  ecstasy  of  delight  at  having  accomplished 
his  purpose  and  gratified  Ralph.  All  the  men  in 
garrison  were  devoted  to  Ralph,  because  he  got  as 
drunk  as  any  of  them,  and  because  he  had  proved 
himself  a  fearless  fighting  man  in  several  cam- 
paigns. They  swore  by  him,  and  would  stop  at 
nothing  for  him.  Gavin  felt  all  the  delight  of  a 
virtuous  accomplishment  in  pandering  to  Ralph's 
pleasure.  But  while  the  crowd  applauded  Gavin 
and  waited  for  the  fight  to  begin,  Bool  rose  from 
the  piano  and,'  without  a  word,  walked  from  the 
room. 

A  dead  silence  fell  upon  the  crowd  at  such  a 
display  of  cowardice,  and  then  it  sent  up  a  mighty 
roar  of  rage  at  being  cheated  of  its  pleasure.  Bool 
was  condemned  by  every  mouth.  The  proprietor 
swaggered  forth  in  a  passion,  and  declared  he 
would  discharge  the  fellow  for  his  discourtesy  to 
the  gentlemen  there  assembled.  The  object  of 
every  employee  of  the  place  should  be  to  please, 
and  he  assured  the  gentlemen  of  that  repeatedly 
in  the  course  of  his  apology.  And  then  Gavin  be- 
came again  the  object  of  applause  and  compli- 
ment, while  he  bewailed  the  unkind  fate  that  had 
9 


130  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

bereft  him  of  an  opponent.  He  was  a  five-minute 
liero.  Somebody  said  lie  deserved  a  reward  for 
exposing  the  character  of  the  other  man,  and 
started  a  hat.  With  a  generosity  often  character- 
istic of  social  outcasts,  the  crowd  threw  dimes  and 
dollars — most  of  dollars — into  it,  and  the  collec- 
tion was  forced  upon  Gavin  with  loud  commenda- 
tion. He  stufied  the  money  into  his  pockets,  and 
bobbed  his  Lnanks.  He  thought  of  his  mother, 
that  he  could  send  her  a  great  deal  more  than  ten 
dollars  that  month,  and  all  because  he  had  gone 
out  to  spend  on  himself  what  he  usually  sent 
her.  If  he  had  staj^ed  in  his  bunk  at  barracks  he 
would  have  sent  her  ten  dollars,  and  then  pinched 
himself  in  the  expenditures  of  comradeship  all  the 
month.  Funny,  how  things  went.  Now  he  Avas 
rich,  had  more  money  than  ever  before,  and 
.  .  .  Well,  he  didn't  go  into  the  matter  quite 
as  deeply  as  that,  even.  He  only  had  a  confused 
idea  that  it  couldn't  be  entirely  wrong  since  it  had 
worked  out  to  such  a  good  end,  and  that  he  ought 
to  do  something  to  show  his  gratitude.  Father 
Brugan  would  direct  him  in  that ;  he  need  trouble 
his  head  no  more  with  the  matter. 

Then  the  crowd  again  surged  around  him,  and 
bore  him  up  to  the  bar.  He  had  shown  his  merit, 
and  had  thereby  raised  himself  to  the  level  of  the 
best  men  in  the  room.  Everyone  of  them  might 
be  proud  to  drink  with  him ;  there  wasn't  an  ex- 
ception— no,  sir,  not  one,  the  proprietor  declared, 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  131 

nodding  at  Rali:>h  in  quick  recognition.  Kalph 
began  to  wish  in  his  heart  that  he  was  not  there. 
He  did  not  relish  being  classed  with  common  sol- 
diers by  a  common  saloon-keeper.  Of  course,  he 
was  not  in  uniform,  and  so  the  service  was  tech- 
nically spared  the  disgrace  of  having  an  officer 
mix  on  terms  of  social  equality  with  gamblers  and 
pestilential  people  generally  ;  but  from  those  who 
knew  him,  there  could  be  no  concealment ;  and  the 
saloon-keeper  had  recognized  him,  and  might  call 
out  his  name  at  any  moment.  He  formulated  a 
wish — not  a  prayer — that  he  would  not,  but  he 
felt  the  danger  imminent. 

Then  he  began  to  feel  indignant.  He  set  forth 
that  he  had  come  to  town  to  have  a  quiet  little 
drunk  all  by  himself,  and  to  be  made  a  public 
character  in  this  way  was  a  shameful  intrusion  on 
his  rights.  He  had  always  liked  the  White  Ele- 
phant as  a  resort — it  was  the  best  equipped  saloon 
in  town — and  before  this  he  had  entertained  a  pe- 
culiar regard  and  respect  for  the  proprietor,  chiefly 
because  he  knew  him  to  be  devoid  of  fear,  and 
because  he  gloried  in  the  doing  of  such  deeds  as 
that  of  stopping  the  incipient  quarrel  just  before 
the  three  men  came  in.  And  now  to  discover  that 
he  rated  officers  and  enlisted  men  on  the  same 
footing  !  Why,  his  respect  for  a  man  capable  of 
such  an  error  was  gone.  He  had  not  the  first  in- 
stinct of  a  gentleman.  And  Ralph  began  to  think 
he  would  have  to  look  up  some  other  place  than 


132  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

The  White  Elephant  in  which  to  enjoy  his  quiet 
little  single-handed  drunks. 

He  got  u]3  and  began  elbowing  his  way  toward 
the  door.  Here  he  pushed  aside  a  negro,  there  a 
Mexican  ;  here  a  cutthroat,  there  a  gambler  ;  men 
of  many  aliases  they  were,  and  all  rated  with  him 
in  respectability  and  honor  !  In  a  Hash  he  recog- 
nized, and  chuckled  at  the  thought,  that  a  soldier's 
honor  was  a  peculiar  thing,  as  he  understood  it.  It 
didn't  make  much  difference  wdiat  one  did,  so  long- 
as  one  was  not  found  out ;  and  then  he  discovered 
this  to  be  the  rule  governing  the  conduct  of  every 
man  about  him.  Perhaps  the  saloon-keeper  was 
right !  The  gamblers  made  their  living  by  cheat- 
ing, but  it  was  all  right  until  they  were  detected  ; 
then  they  were  likely  to  be  shot.  Yet  everybody 
knew  all  the  time  that  they  were  cheating.  In  an- 
alogy, he  knew  that  Colonel  Genisli  ^\'as  well 
aware  of  his  propensity  for  drink ;  but  he  also 
knew  that  until  he  was  drunk  during  the  perform- 
ance of  some  duty,  he  would  not  be  court-mar- 
tialed. He  wondered  if  that  would  be  his  fate 
some  day  ?  It  was  such  a  disgrace  that  he  would 
never  be  able  to  hold  up  his  head  in  the  service 
again,  even  should  he  happen  not  to  be  dismissed. 
Or  perhaps  the  colonel  would  catch  him  tripping 
in  some  minor  detail,  and  put  him  on  pledge — re- 
move the  social  glass  from  his  way,  Avarn  officers 
not  to  tempt  him  to  drink,  make  him  a  monument 
of  all   that   was   untrustworthy.     So   long  as  he 


O.V  THE  OFFENSIVE  133 

slioukl  keep  the  pledge  lie  would  be  permitted  to 
remain  in  the  army,  on  the  apparent  footing  of  a 
gentleman  and  an  equal ;  but  he  knew  that  nothing 
would  so  tempt  him  to  drink  as  the  fact  of  being 
on  pledge.  And  then  the  colonel's  daughter, 
Lydia,  would  know  all  about  it — his  weakness,  his 
vileness,  see  him  through  and  through  ;  and  he 
brought  himself  up  with  a  sudden  start,  berating 
himself  for  allowing  his  mind  to  formulate  her 
name  and  image  to  itself  in  that  place.  He  would 
not  be  so  vile  as  that,  anyway. 

Forcing  his  way  out  was  hard  Avork,  for  he  was 
well  toward  the  rear  of  the  room  and  the  crowd  had 
filled  in  the  comparatively  narrow  space  by  the 
bar.  He  elbowed  along  till  he  found  himself  so 
near  Gavin  that  he  could  have  touched  him  ;  and 
then  he  encountered  a  current  setting  inward,  and 
it  was  all  he  could  do  to  keep  from  being  carried 
back  into  the  room  with  it.  If  he  had  had  his  wits 
about  him  he  would  have  remembered  that  people 
were  always  crowding  in  at  the  front  of  the  saloon, 
and  he  would  have  slipped  out  by  a  rear  door. 
But  now  he  was  so  near  the  front,  he  struggled  not 
to  be  swept  back  ;  yet  with  his  best  efforts  he  only 
kept  his  place  near  Gavin  and  the  other  soldiers. 
They  were  thus  forced  together,  and  he  knew  that 
if  the  smiling  bar-keeper  should  again  catch  sight 
of  him  he  would  have  to  drink  with  them.  This 
he  did  not  want  to  do ;  it  was  a  mark  of  social  pre- 
ferment to  which  he  objected.     Out  in  the  field. 


134:  ON  THM  OFFENSIVE 

where  one  man  was  better  than  another  only  as  he 
shot  or  trailed  better,  drinking  was  another  thing  ; 
but  in  town  he  could  have  nothing  in  common 
with  them. 

A  man's  face  came  into  noticeable  prominence 
directly  in  front  of  him,  not  three  feet  away — the 
face  of  a  man  who  was  struggling  through  the 
crowd  to  get  near  the  soldiers.  It  was  flushed  with 
the  effort,  and  Ralph  looked  at  it  twice  in  spite  of 
himself,  and  then  gazed  at  it  steadily  in  curious 
fascination.  It  had  the  most  intense  expression  he 
had  ever  seen — save  once,  on  the  face  of  an  Indian 
chief  after  death.  There  was  nothing  malignant, 
hating,  cruel,  in  this,  but  the  calm,  stolid  intent  of 
the  white  man  who  will  arrive  at  the  j^oint  of  his 
aim  over  all  obstacles  whatever.  It  was  this  man 
who  had  been  the  real  cause  of  the  tide  setting  in 
from  the  doorway.  And  then  Ralph  saw  that  he 
was  Bool.  Now  that  he  was  in  the  pressure  di- 
minished, and  Ralph,  forgetting  his  desij-e  to  be 
away,  remained  without  effort  to  watch  him.  He 
was  surprised  that  Bool  should  return,  but  at  once 
concluded  he  had  thought  better  of  the  matter  and 
had  come  back  to  gratify  the  patrons  of  the  place 
by  accepting  battle.  He  at  once  commenced  to 
have  a  kindly  feeling  for  the  short  little  fellow,  for 
the  sentiment  of  the  crowd  had  become  decidedly 
hostile.  He  stood  where  he  was  and  watched  him 
worm  his  way  up  to  Gavin. 

Somebody  else  saw  him  and  shouted  the  news 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  135 

of  his  return.  "  Halloo  !  Here's  Bool  back  again ! 
Plucky  little  cuss,  after  all !  Now  we'll  have  that 
scrap ! " 

Bool  pressed  his  lips  together  and  let  the  under 
one  fall  in  a  narrow  smile,  showing  his  teeth  like  a 
bull-dog.     "  Will  you  so?  "  he  sneered. 

Gavin  was  drinking.  They  had  filled  his  glass 
once,  twice,  and  now  a  third  time  he  was  respond- 
ing to  the  kind  words  of  his  friends.  As  he  raised 
the  glass,  Bool,  standing  behind  him,  touched  his 
shoulder. 

"  I  want  you,"  he  murmured,  threateningly. 

Gavin  had  discovered  nothing  of  his  approach. 
Now  he  turned  his  head  for  a  glance  and  was  aston- 
ished to  find  Bool  there.  He  had  but  one  thought : 
would  he  be  allowed  now  to  keep  the  money  that 
had  been  given  him  ?  Was  his  mother  to  be  de- 
frauded of  money  that,  by  intention,  Avas  already 
hers?  For  Bool  had  come  back,  and  that  meant 
fight. 

No  one  tried  to  interfere  ;  the  crowd  would  have 
tolerated  nothing  of  the  kind.  So  when  Bool 
touched  Gavin  on  the  shoulder,  both  men  Avere  in- 
stantly accorded  room  for  a  swinging  blow.  And 
then,  with  a  motion  so  swift  that  they  could  see  but 
a  quick  glint  of  the  blade  he  used,  Bool  raised  his 
hand  and  drew  it  cuttingly  across  the  neck  of 
Gavin.  The  blood  shot  out  in  a  red  bolt,  full  into 
the  faces  of  the  crowd  ;  and  Gavin,  clapping  his 
fingers  to  the  wound,  gave  a  single  moan  : 


136  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  Oil,  I'm  a  dead  mon  !     Oli,  mc  poor  mother ! " 

He  swayed  with  a  sudden  loss  of  strength,  and 
would  have  fallen;  but  Killeen  and  Robinson 
grasped  him  on  either  side,  and  made  a  movement 
for  the  door.  The  crowd  was  so  dense  that  they 
could  not  pass. 

Then  the  proprietor,  alive  to  the  good  name  of 
the  "White  Elephant,  leaped  over  the  bar  and  ad- 
vanced in  front  of  them,  clearing  a  way. 

"  Make  room  to  the  door  !  "  he  cried,  anxiously, 
and  the  crowd  bent  back  before  him.  He  looked 
over  his  shoulder  at  the  soldiers,  and  begged  them 
piteously,  "  Get  him  out !  Don't  let  him  die  in 
here !  "  And  again,  "  He  can't  die  in  here  !  Make 
room  to  the  door  !  " 

They  moved  Gavin  out  through  the  door  and  set 
his  feet  toward  the  post.  Killeen  put  his  clumsy 
fingers  about  the  cut  and  tried  to  hold  the  sides 
together  ;  but  the  blood  forced  its  way  out  in  fierce 
jets,  spurting  with  each  heart-beat ;  and  with  each, 
Gavin  became  fainter  and  leaned  more  heavily  on 
his  two  comrades. 

"  Keep  up,  Gavin,"  they  besought  him.  "  We'll 
make  the  post  all  right  and  the  doctor  will  mend 
your  bit  scratch  in  a  jiffy !  " 

Gavin  moaned  again.  "  Nivver  in  the  world. 
Oh,  me  poor  mother ! "  He  thought  only  of  her, 
came  nearer  to  her  with  every  pulse.  "  What  will 
she  do — me  mother !  " 

Now  everyone  in  town  was  behind  them,  trailing 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  137 

along  to  witness  their  distress — to  rifle  Gavin's 
pockets  of  their  store.  Someone  was  coming 
toward  them — a  man,  tall  and  firm,  walking 
strongly.  As  he  came  closer,  Killeen  uttered  a 
cry  as  nearly  of  joy  as  might  be  : 

"  Oh,  praise  all  the  saints !  'Tis  Father  Bru- 
gan ! " 

Perhaps  the  shuffling,  shadowy  column  behind 
them  did  not  want  to  face  the  priest,  or  be- 
seen  by  him  ;  for  at  Killeen's  cry  it  hesitated, 
stopped,  and  then  began  to  disintegrate.  Some 
bethought  them  of  the  cause  of  the  tragedy,  and 
confused  cries  arose:  "Bool!  Bool!  Where  is 
he  ?  Don't  lose  him  !  "  And  the  crowd  set  back 
tumultuously  toward  the  saloon  ;  but  they  found 
the  place  quiet,  and  the  man  they  sought  taken 
away. 

For  when  Bool  drew  back  from  the  blow  he  in- 
flicted on  Gavin,  he  felt  a  grasp  like  steel  at  the 
back  of  his  neck,  and  a  sinewy  hand  gripped  him 
by  the  wrist  so  he  could  neither  turn  nor  strike. 
That  was  Ralph.  He  caught  at  him  with  all  the 
strength  of  his  wiry  form,  and  held  to  him  de- 
spite his  struggles.  Then  another  man  came  upon 
them,  caring  nothing  for  the  procession  of  dark- 
ness at  the  head  of  which  a  soldier  walked  to 
death,  and  said : 

"He's  my  man.     Let's  take  him  to  jail." 

Ealph  looked  uj3  and  saw  the  sherifl"  of  the 
county,     Bool  was  disarmed   and  marched  away 


138  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

between  them  to  the  jail ;  and  when  the  crowd 
came  surging  back  he  was  beyond  their  reach. 
Ealph  had  disappeared  into  the  night  also,  and 
walked  by  side  streets  and  alleys  to  the  creek,  and 
so  home.     He  did  not  wish  to  be  seen. 


VI 


Colonel  Geerish  had  met  Father  Brugan  while 
in  town  that  afternoon,  and  told  him  the  hunting 
party  returned  just  as  he  left  the  Fort.  Then  he 
asked  the  priest  if  he  wouldn't  come  over  that  even- 
ing, as  it  was  more  than  likely  that  one  or  both  of 
the  young  officers  would  be  in  to  pay  a  call,  and 
others  might  drop  in  also,  and  make  a  pleasant  so- 
cial evening.  Perhaps  Father  Brugan  did  not 
care  so  much  for  the  social  feature  alluringly 
suggested  by  the  well-meaning  colonel,  as  for  his 
chance  of  doing  good  among  the  soldiers,  which 
was  increased  by  every  occasion  of  this  sort ;  for 
it  was  as  necessary  to  know  the  officers  as  the 
men,  and  the  more  intimate  his  acquaintance  on 
the  line,  the  more  freedom  of  action  he  could  have 
in  barracks.  But  he  found  these  army  acquaint- 
ances very  pleasant  in  themselves  alone.  They, 
like  himself,  were  there  under  orders  ;  that  was 
one  bond  of  sympathy.  And  another  was  that 
they  were  both  there  in  support  of  law  and  order, 
though  coming  at  it  from  opposite  sides — they  by 
force  of  arms,  he  by  force  of  logic  and  faith.  Thus 
he    Avas    glad   that    the    colonel    was   thoughtful 


140  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

enougli  to  ask  liim  over,  and  he  accepted  tlie  invi- 
tation quickly. 

But  as  lie  walked  away,  lie  was  near  rebuking 
himself  for  accepting,  and  was  tempted  to  turn 
back  and  say  that,  after  all,  he  could  not  come. 
He  would  have  done  so,  except  that  his  would  then 
have  been  the  attitude  of  the  man  who  skulks  from 
danger,  of  a  coward  ;  and  he  was  not  that  manner 
of  man.  His  after-thought  was  the  result  of  severe 
self-questionings  to  wdiicli  he  subjected  himself 
often  on  his  return  from  visits  at  the  post ;  and 
the  point  on  which  these  inquisitions  turned  w^as, 
whether  he  found  the  more  happiness  in  the  work 
it  was  his  to  do  among  the  soldiers,  or  in  the  talks 
that  never  failed  of  taking  place  between  himself 
and  Miss  Gerrish.  When  he  confronted  himself 
with  this  suspicion  he  groaned  in  spirit,  for  then 
he  felt  himself  unworthy  of  the  priesthood  ;  other- 
wise, the  thought  v>'ould  not  have  occurred  to  him. 
This  troubled  him,  gave  him  sharp  mental  an- 
guish ;  and  when,  by  an  effort,  he  had  calmed  him- 
self he  would  reflect  on  the  last  conversation,  go 
over  it  analytically,  pick  it  to  pieces,  and  try  to  dis- 
cover what  was  in  it  that  should  not  be.  For  the 
life  of  him,  he  could  not  determine  it !  She  told 
him  small  details  about  the  soldiers  and  the  mar- 
ried men  that  he  found  valuable  in  his  work  ;  she 
took  a  sympathetic  interest  in  what  he  did,  and 
was  glad  when  he  could  speak  of  it  rejoicingly. 
They  never   spoke  of  themselves,  but   always  of 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  l-il 

others  in  connectiou  with  his  Avork.  And  thus  he 
would  conchide  that,  so  far  as  his  mortal  sight 
could  penetrate,  there  was  nothing  reprehensible 
in  their  acquaintance.  Consciously,  he  had  violat- 
ed no  vow  ;  perhaps  he  was  too  censorious  toward 
himself,  was  keeping  a  too  strict  watch  on  his  ac- 
tions. But  he  would  no  sooner  reach  that  conclu- 
sion and  feel  a  trifle  easier,  than  he  would  find  con- 
jured up  before  his  mental  vision  a  picture  of  her 
sympathetic  face,  her  intelligent  glance — and  he 
would  know  that  it  was  her  personality  that  gave  to 
the  acquaintance  its  greatest  charm.  His  self-re- 
proaches would  then  spring  up  again.  Had  he,  even 
unconsciously,  committed  a  sin  ?  Poor  human  nat- 
ure is  so  weak,  even  when  bolstered  up  by  firm 
faith  and  a  constant  labor  toward  things  eternal. 
Then  the  more  rugged  side  of  his  nature  Avould  arise 
to  accuse  him  of  temporizing  with  his  duty.  The 
work  among  the  soldiers — work  which  only  he 
could  do — demanded  the  continuance  of  the  ac- 
quaintance ;  and  if  there  was  in  it  anything  of  a 
sinful  nature,  it  was  there  to  be  fought  against  and 
subdued.  This  was,  perhaps,  the  test  of  his  Avor- 
thiness.  Well,  he  would  not  shrink  from  it !  He 
would  go  forward  as  he  had  in  other  fields,  con- 
centrating himself  on  a  singleness  of  purpose.  He 
would  not  leave  work  undone  because  of  obstacles 
in  the  way  ;  he  would  go  on  despite  the  obstacles  ! 
That  had  ever  been  his  rule,  and  he  Avould  not 
now  become  a  skulker. 


142  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

Lyclia  Gerrish  bad  no  suspicion  of  tlie  conflict 
Father  Brugan  waged  with  himself.  .Theological 
questions  offered  her  nothing  of  interest  in  a  case 
like  this.  It  was  not  a  matter  of  converting  Prot- 
estants to  Catholicism,  or  primarily  of  sustaining 
any  creed  ;  it  was  an  attempt  to  succor  those  who 
needed  helj?,  irrespective  of  faith  or  the  lack  of  it. 
For  in  those  parts  of  the  world  wdiere  naturalness 
of  conditions  yet  obtains  in  any  degree,  and  man 
goes  far  back  toward  his  primitive  superabundance 
of  brute  force  at  the  expense  of  mental  power,  there 
is  no  choice  of  theologically  outlined  paths  to 
heaven ;  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  equal  and  un- 
restrained charity  for  all  men ;  and  he  who  can 
sink  his  prejudices  of  creed  and  look  upon  man 
simply  as  a  brother,  and  not  as  a  possible  chvu'ch 
pillar,  is  the  one  who  can  have  influence  for  good. 
Father  Brugan  was  such  a  man  ;  and  Lydia,  rec- 
ognizing this  quality  in  him,  was  glad  that  she 
might  contribute  in  any  way  to  his  success. 

When  Father  Brugan  made  a  tardy  appearance 
at  the  colonel's  that  evening,  he  found  Spur- 
bridge,  and  Lieutenant  and  Mrs.  Lawrence.  Tlie 
priest  was  warmly  Avelcomed  ;  even  Mrs.  Gerrish, 
staid  and  stately,  unbent  a  little  and  smiled  as 
she  spoke  to  him.  There  was  some  question 
about  Balph,  who  had  not  been  seen  since  pa- 
rade ;  and  then  the  priest,  talking  to  Bpurbridge, 
drew  from  him  a  bright  description  of  the  trip. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  li3 

For  Spurbridge  had  at  all  times  the  enthusiasm 
of  undiscoiiraged  youth,  and  this  was  now  rein- 
forced by  a  hearty  delight  in  his  first  expedition. 
Small  details  recurred  happily  to  his  memory  : 
the  chase  of  mules  that  deserted  and  tried  to  re- 
turn home,  and  were  captured  only  Avhen  a  wire 
fence  barred  their  progress;  the  experiments  of 
Gavin,  who  aspired  to  break  the  record  for  camp 
cooking ;  and  his  own  despair  because,  with  all 
his  endeavors,  he  met  no  dangerous  game,  and 
must  therefore  buy  his  rugs  instead  of  displaying 
skins  of  his  own  slaying.  When  he  finished  it 
was  as  though  an  unexpected  entertainment  had 
suddenly  come  to  an  end,  and  left  the  guests  de- 
pendent on  themselves. 

The  talk  circled  away  in  little  eddies  about  the 
room.  Mrs.  Gerrish  chatted  with  Mrs.  Lawrence 
about  affairs  that  the  men  were  not  interested  in. 
The  colonel  spoke  to  Father  Brugan  about  Sun- 
day services  for  the  men  ;  the  school-house  was 
vacant  on  the  Sabbath,  and  he  hoped  the  23riest 
might  make  use  of  it.  Lawrence  was  drawn  into 
the  discussion,  being  an  officer  of  much  experi- 
ence. The  priest  liked  the  idea,  but  said  it  would 
be  impossible  for  him  to  conduct  a  service.  Spur- 
bridge listened  deferentially  to  the  views  of  his 
senior  officers  until  he  happened  to  catch  Lydia's 
eye  across  the  room.  She  was  alone,  and  the 
glance  was  inviting  ;  so  he  gladly  went  over  to  her. 

She  took  the  lead  at  once.     "  Do  you  know,  Mr. 


l-ttt  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

SpiTrbridge,  you  told  yonr  story  of  the  hunt  very 
well  ?  "  she  said,  abruptly. 

He  stammered  out  some  commonplace  assur- 
ance of  his  gratification  at  having  pleased  her. 
He  felt  that  he  had  done  well,  but  he  was  sur- 
prised that  she  should  unreservedly  tell  him  so. 

"  It  was  interesting  as  much  in  the  manner  of 
telling  as  in  the  story  itself,"  she  continued,  con- 
vincingly. "  Don't  you  find  pleasure  in  both  ele- 
ments when  reading  ?  " 

"  I  can  hardly  say,"  he  replied,  slowly,  still 
amazed  at  her  manner.  "I  like  a  good  story — 
and  of  course  I  like  it  well  told  rather  than  bun- 
gled." 

"  I  believe  we  all  feel  the  same,  though  some 
won't  admit  it.  They  declare  they  read  only  for 
the  story,  and  care  nothing  for  style.  I  believe 
they  are  more  affected  by  it  than  they  know." 

"  That's  a  curious  view  of  the  case,"  Spurbridge 
said,  whimsically.  ''  I  think  it's  a  point  of  pride 
with  people  to  claim  all  perception  possible  in  lit- 
erary matters.  I  never  saw  a  reader  yet  avIio  was 
not  also  a  fluent  critic." 

"  Well,  it's  one  thing  to  have  a  good  story,  and 
another  to  make  people  know  it's  good,''  she  in- 
sisted. "  Do  you  know  Avhat  I  would  do  if  I  Avere 
you  ?  " 

"  I  hope  I  shall  in  a  moment,"  he  replied,  per- 
ceiving they  were  now  getting  at  the  milk  in  that 
cocoanut. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  145 

"  I  should  put  an  account  of  that  trip  on  pa- 
per," she  said ;  and  then  looked  at  him  inquir- 
ingly. 

"  Oh,  I'm  going  to,"  he  said,  after  a  moment. 
"  I  shall  send  my  mother  a  long  account  of  it,"  he 
added,  misleadingly. 

"  To  be  sure  ;  but  that  isn't  what  I  meant,"  she 
said,  becoming  explicit.  "  Why  not  write  an  ac- 
count that  would  be  printed  somewhere  ?  I  don't 
know  about  those  things  " — vaguely — "  but  as  you 
were  speaking  it  occurred  to  me  it  ought  to  be 
possible  for  you." 

Spurbridge  felt  a  flush  of  pleasure  that  she 
should  attribute  to  him  the  ability  he  most  de- 
sired, was  almost  ready  to  believe  was  his.  It  was 
a  sharp  goad  to  his  imaginative  desire  that  she 
should  give  him  unsought  the  credit  he  would 
have  demanded. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  he  replied,  un- 
willing to  betray  the  pleasure  at  his  heart.  "It  is 
so  different — speaking  and  writing.  And  then,  I 
doubt  if  it  would  be  worth  while." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  she  asked,  drawing  back 
in  a  hurt  way.  "  But  I  didn't  mean  financially.  I 
never  thought  of  that." 

"No?  What  then?"  he  stammered.  He  feared 
that  she  was  offended ;  perhaps  he  had  dissimu- 
lated too  well. 

"  I  thought  of  it  simply  as  an  employment. 
There  is  so  much  unoccupied  time  —  and  it 
10 


14G  OiV  THE  OFFENSIVE 

would  be  no  harm  as  a  mental  exercise,  you 
know." 

"  No  harm  at  all,  if  I  am  in  need  of  a  mental 
exercise,"  he  said,  smiling  to  see  her  bite  her  lip 
in  sudden  discomfiture.  "  But  there  are  the  court- 
martials  and  the  boards  of  survey  that  I  am  fre- 
quently invited  to  write  up.  Why  do  you  imagine 
I  have  such  oceans  of  unemployed  time  on  iny 
hands?" 

"  Because  I  have  been  in  the  army  all  my  life 
and  know  what  it  is  for  every  young  ojfficer,"  she 
replied,  with  a  sudden  fine  touch  of  superiority. 
"  You  don't  for  a  moment  suppose  the  daughter 
of  your  colonel  could  be  mistaken  on  that  point, 
Mr.  Spurbridge  ?  " 

"It  would  be  treason  if  I  did,"  he  declared,  with 
ready  self-condemnation.  She  bubbled  a  merry 
little  laugh  at  the  notion.  "But  I  may  as  well 
admit  that  there  are  moments  when  I  do  absolutely 
nothing.  Perhaps  I  waste  more  hours  in  the  day 
than  I  sleep  at  night.  It  would  serve  me  right, 
undoubtedly,  to  lie  awake  o'  nights,  agonizing  over 
my  wasted  opportunities.  And  you  would  have 
me  write  ?  " 

"Oh,  no;  not  unless  you  w^ant  to,"  she  said,  dis- 
claiming any  personal  concern.  Then  she  became 
sincere  and  serious  again.  "  I  have  often  won- 
dered why  officers  did  not  occuj^y  their  time  in 
some  such  way.  They  are  always  saying  they 
play  cards  just  to  kill  time,  and  pretending  to  re- 


ox  THE   OFFEXSIVE  147 

gret  it.  Do  you  tliink  they  feel  very  badly  about 
it?" 

"  It  depends,"  said  lie,  weighing  the  question  in 
fine  scales,  "  on  how  the  game  w^ent.  If  I  said 
so,  you  would  know  beyond  a  doubt  that  I  had 
lost  at  least  as  much  as  I  pay  my  striker  every 
month." 

"  Oh,  should  I  ?  And  suppose  Mr.  Ealpli  said 
it— what  woidd  that  mean  to  a  mind  that  could 
understand  ?  " 

"Well,  Mr.  Ralph  wouldn't  say  it,"  he  declared. 
"  not  it'  he  lost  his  whole  month's  pay.  He  has 
been  in  the  army  long  enough  to  find  out  that  any- 
thing that  consumes  time  is  not  to  be  valued  in 
dollars  and  cents." 

"  Yes,  I  suspect  he  has,"  she  mused.  She 
looked  Spurbridge  frankly  in  the  eyes.  "  I  have 
half  a  mind  to  make  a  serious  admission  to  you," 
she  said. 

"  Let  me  supply  you  the  other  half,"  he  besought. 
They  both  laughed;  for  they  enjoyed  talking  about 
themselves  as  they  were  doing,  and  they  were 
young,  and  laughing  was  easy. 

"  Well  —  I  actually  have  envied  officers  their 
games  of  cards  ;  and  if  I  were  one  of  them,  I 
would  play  as  much  as  any.  It  is  the  hardest 
thing  in  the  world  to  get  through  some  of  the  days 
that  fall  upon  a  garrison." 

"Isn't  it,  though  ?  "  said  Spurbridge,  sympathet- 
ically.    He  knew.     Time  never  goes  slower  than 


148  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

witli  some  newly  gratluated  lieutenants,  who  pass 
at  a  bound  from  the  busiest  of  lives  to  one  of  sus- 
tained leisure. 

"  But  it's  a  pity  to  choose  nothing  more  desir- 
able than  cards  for  a  weapon,  isn't  it  ?  "  she  ven- 
tured, veering  around  to  personalities  again. 

He  nodded  his  head  emphatically.  "  But  I  can 
see  why  it  is  so,"  he  said.  "The  old  fellows  are  all 
playing  when  the  j-oungsters  come  out,  and  they 
get  into  a  card  atmosphere  before  they  know  it. 
Besides,  they  play  at  West  Point,  which  is  strictly 
forbidden.  We  used  to  hang  blankets  over  the 
windows  and  transoms  and  play  in  secrecy,  risking 
heavy  punishments.     It  was  great  fun  !  " 

"  I  don't  see  it,"  she  said,  blankly. 

"Why,  didn't  you  ever  experience  the  happy 
sensation  of  doing  what  w^as  forbidden  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Ah,  I  shall  not  adinit  everything  to  you,"  she 
laughed.  It  was  so  necessary  to  draw  the  line 
somewhere.  "And  so  you  came  out  with  a  card 
taste  developed  ?  Or  is  it  that  they  work  cadets 
so  hard  they  vow  never  to  do  an  unnecessary  bit 
of  work,  once  they  are  graduated  ?  " 

"  A  good  deal  of  both.  But  I'm  getting  rested 
now,  having  been  out  over  a  jeav,  and  feel  like 
doing  something.  You  see  I  can  make  dangerous 
admissions  as  well  as  you,"  he  added,  gayly. 

■  "  I  believe  you  could  do  something  with  yoiir 
pen,  if  you  would  only  try." 

He  looked  at  her  before  he  answered,  as  though 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  149 

sounding  the  depth  of  her  friendship.  "I  foresee 
a  great  deal  in  this,"  he  said.  "  I'll  be  writing 
endless  strings  of  things  and  bringing  them  to  you 
for  criticism ;  and  I  shall  be  running  to  you  for 
inspiration.  You'd  better  reconsider  and  turn 
back." 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  shall  be  glad  to  do  it  for 
you.  I  should  like  to  see  someone  take  hold  of  an 
officer's  life  as  though  it  were  something  more 
than  a  mere  snap.  There  could  be  so  much  made 
out  of  it,  if  one  would  only  be  sincere  in  his  devo- 
tion to  a  leism'e  hour  pursuit."  She  spoke  with 
an  earnestness  that  surprised  Spurbridge  into  go- 
ing beyond  himself. 

"I  don't  know  what  has  made  you  speak  of  this 
— this  writing.  Miss  Gerrish,"  he  declared,  "  but  it 
seems  a  good  deal  like  mind  transference.  I  had 
it  on  my  mind."  He  emphasized  his  assertion  by 
nodding,  for  she  looked  at  him  with  new  interest. 
"  I  have  thought  about  it,  wondered  if  I  could  do 
anything,  and  have  at  last  arrived  at  the  point  of 
trying  it.  You  encourage  me  when  you  speak  as 
you  do — give  me  more  faith  in  myself,  you  know. 
There  are  hours  and  hours,  every  day,  that  it  is 
absolutely  tiresome  to  get  rid  of.  I  get  tired  of 
reading,  tired  of  cards,  tired  of  going  eternally 
round  the  usual  small  circle  of  duties  and  garrison 
affairs.  I  want  to  get  outside  of  it  all ;  I  want  to 
get  away  from  myself ;  I  want  to  write.  There 
have  been  writers — authors — in  my  family.     You 


150  OX  THE  OFFENSIVE 

don't  suppose  they  had  cdl  the  talent,  do  you  ? " 
he  asked,  comfort-seeking. 

"I  don't  see  why  they  should,"  she  told  him, 
reassuringly. 

He  was  gratified.  "  Well,  I'm  going  to  give  it 
a  trial,  anyway,  and  see  what  I  can  do.  Of  course, 
the  thing  is  to  write  it  so  it  will  sell.  I  must  have 
some  point  to  strive  for ;  and  if  it  isn't  that,  I 
might  as  w^ell  be  making  pothooks." 

The  priest,  who  had  been  looking  at  them  from 
time  to  time,  now  crossed  over  and  asked  Spur- 
bridge  what  they  had  done  Avitli  the  immense 
amount  of  game  they  must  have  brought  in. 
Spurbridge  laughed;. the  killing  of  the  game,  he 
explained,  was  a  larger  part  of  the  trip  than  the 
game  itself.  They  had  lived  mainly  on  their  rities, 
and  what  they  brought  back  had  been  distributed 
in  the  garrison.  None  was  wasted,  and  the  sol- 
diers' families  had  a  share  of  it. 

"I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  the  priest.  "It  would 
have  been  a  pity  to  kill  the  creatures  to  no  pur- 
pose. Well,  the  poor  families  will  thank  you.  It 
w^as  a  good  use  to  put  it  to."  He  looked  at  Miss 
Gerrish  as  if  for  support  in  his  harmless  state- 
ment, and  was  gratified  that  she  should  smile  and 
nod  her  head. 

"  Colonel  Gerrish  has  been  saying  to  me  that 
he  thinks  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  have  some 
Sabbath  observance,  not  of  a  military  nature,  at 
the  post,"  he  continued  to  her. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  151 

"  You  certainly  agree  with  liim  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Certainl}',  I  am  only  sorry  I  cannot  otficiate. 
I  have  suggested  to  him  that  some  Protestant 
clergyman  in  town  might  be  glad  to  devote  part  of 
the  day  to  such  a  service.  It  need  not  necessarily 
be  denominational." 

"  Would  they  go,  do  you  think  '?  "  Lydia  asked, 
in  a  general  way.     Lawrence  answered  her. 

"If  you  juean  the  men — yes,"  he  said.  "Last 
Sunday  evening  Mrs.  Lawrence  and  I  went  to  town 
to  a  service,  and  found  half  a  dozen  of  them  there. 
I  am  sure  there  worild  be  a  good  attendance  at  the 
post,  if  it  was  encouraged." 

A  laugh  of  amusement  escaped  Mrs.  Lawrence's 
unguarded  lips,  and  Mrs.  Gerrish  sent  a  glance  of 
decorous  sm-prise  in  her  direction.  The  subject 
of  Sunday  services  had  in  it  nothing  ludicrous. 

"  I  shall  have  to  explain,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence, 
apologetically,  as  she  noticed  her  superior  lady's 
expression.  "The  preacher  was  an  old-time  ex- 
horter.  He  knew  just  what  fearful  things  would 
happen  after  death  to  the  wicked,  and  he  told 
what  they  were.  Then  he  shouted,  'All  those 
who  want  to  go  to — to — that  place,  stand  up ! ' 
There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  then  those  sol- 
diers got  up  and  solemnly  marched  out."  She 
giggled  helplessly  at  the  recollection,  and  Law- 
rence finished  her  account. 

"  It  was  not  their  fault,"  he  explained.  "  When 
the  house  was  still  after  the  minister's  invitation, 


152  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

tliey  heard  the  call  for  tattoo  soimcling,  and  they 
had  to  get  here  for  roll  call,  or  be  punished.  They 
naturally  preferred  the  risk  of  future  punishment 
to  the  certainty  of  a  present  penalty.  But  the 
congregation  did  not  understand,  and  made  sure 
they  did  it  to  reflect  unpleasantly  on  the  services." 

"It  is  a  pity,"  said  Father  Brugan,  "that  they 
have  not  a  service  here  they  may  attend  without 
danger  of  having  actions  misconstrued.  And  for 
men  whose  lives  are  set  apart  from  the  rest  of  the 
world  a  special  service  may  well  be  pleaded."  He 
was  in  full  process  of  encouraging  Colonel  Gerrish 
in  his  proposition,  and  would  have  sanctioned  any 
service  undertaken  with  due  faith  and  reverence, 

Kitty  brought  in  sweet  cakes  and  tiny  cups  of 
chocolate  just  then,  serving  them  on  a  lacquered 
tray.  She  quite  trembled  to  approach  the  priest 
on  so  secular  a  mission,  but  he  gave  her  a  smile 
and  a  "  daughter  "  that  held  for  her  a  world  of 
comfort. 

"  AVell,  we'll  have  to  fix  up  some  sort  of  a  ser- 
vice for  them,"  the  coloiiel  mumbled.  "  I  don't 
know  what — I  want  the  sort  that  will  reach  the 
greatest  number,  whatever  it  may  be." 

Mrs.  Gerrish  moved  gently,  with  the  intention  of 
speaking.  "  I  don't  think,  Colonel  Gerrish,  you 
will  find  them  hard  to  suit.  Very  few  soldiers  will 
be  sticklers  for  doctrine."  She  looked  expectantly 
about,  and  there  was  a  general  laugh  at  the  colo- 
nel's expense. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  153 

"  You  don't  apprelieud  my  idea,  Mrs.  Gerrisli," 
lie  returned,  in  a  gracious  roar.  "  I  want  to  get  at 
the  core  of  the  matter — approach  them  on  ground 
that  all  may  hold.  Does  that  seem  impossible  to 
you  ?  "  he  asked,  turning  to  the  priest. 

"  Certainly  not,"  he  replied,  promptly.  "  You 
can  at  least  assume  the  central  idea  of  worship  of 
some  power,  of  the  existence  of  God.  Do  not 
even  Indians  have  that '?  " 

"  They  have  something,  though  it  is  hard  to  say 
just  what  it  is,"  replied  Lawrence,  who  seemed 
best  qualified  to  speak.  "  They  worship  one  thing 
and  another,  and  offer  sacrifices,  mostly  propitia- 
tory. But  I  believe  they  are  too  elemental  for 
a  formulated  idea  of  the  Deity.  Of  themselves, 
they  have  nothing  more  than  superstition." 

Lydia  had  been  making  herself  small  in  the 
background,  directing  Kitty's  movements.  Now 
she  spoke  : 

"  Well,  is  not  that  a  foundation  for  belief  ?  " 

The  priest  gave  her  a  look  of  reproach,  and  all 
seemed  startled.  Her  father,  after  a  moment's 
surprise,  said,  indulgently  : 

"  Ah,  there  is  more  of  your  reading,  Lydia.  I 
am  afraid — afraid — 3'ou  are  browsing  over  too  wide 
a  meadow."  He  turned  to  the  priest,  whose  eyes 
still  shadowed  forth  that  mild  look  of  abhorrence. 
"  You  will  have  to  talk  to  her,"  he  said. 

They  had  some  little  talk  on  the  point,  and  the 
result  was  that  all  became  tangled  in  a  mesh  of 


154:  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

definition  and  decision ;  for  tliey  Avere  not  largely 
given  to  a  consideration  of  tilings  beyond  their 
temporal  station,  and  this  handicapped  them. 
And  out  of  the  bewildering  skein  arose  Lawrence, 
crying  : 

"  I  should  like  to  know  just  where  superstition 
leaves  off,  and  belief  begins.  We  know  there  may 
be  such  a  thing  as  superstitious  belief ;  where  are 
you  going  to  draw  the  line  ?  And  what  sort  of  a 
belief  is  it  that  causes  one  to  accept  a  wonderful 
statement  uuquestioniugly '?  AVon't  someone  elim- 
inate ?  elucidate  ?  explain  ?  " 

"  Not  I,"  Father  Brugan  declined,  with  a  mourn- 
ful shake  of  the  head.  "  Those  are  questions  you 
have  built  up,  and  they  are  unanswerable  to  a  per- 
son who  has  not  faith.  I  cannot  entertain  them. 
They  mean  nothing  to  me,  because  I  have  a  very 
certain  faith,  or  I  should  not  be  as  I  am.  You 
may  say  I  have  superstition " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  they  protested. 

"  I  do  not  think  I  have,"  he  assented.  "  What 
should  I  be  doing  with  it?'  I  have  accepted  cer- 
tain premises,  and  on  these  all  things  else  are 
clearly  explainable  to  me.  That  is  not  suj)ersti- 
tion."* 

"  No,  it  isn't,"  said  Lawrence.  He  was  a  little 
appalled  by  the  vehemence  of  the  priest's  defence 
of  faith  in  the  abstract.  "  But  you  know  the  aver- 
age person  doesn't  reason  at  all.  He  is  told  that 
if  he  does  certain  things  in  this  life,  certain  condi- 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  155 

tions  will  result  in  the  next.  He  accepts  the 
truth,  not  only  of  the  statement,  but  of  the  infer- 
ences— that  there  is  another  life,  and  that  the  per- 
son speaking  knows  all  about  it.  There  is  a  tinct- 
ure of  superstition  in  that,  to  my  fancy." 

The  priest  seemed  to  acquiesce,  so  unwilling  was 
he  to  regard  it  as  a  question  for  discussion.  "  Then 
you  will  admit  that  superstition  has,  at  least,  good 
uses  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I'll  admit  that,"  said  Lawrence,  glad 
to  get  off  so  easily. 

Spurb ridge  gave  a  premonitory  laugh,  "  Well, 
there's  seeing  the  moon  over  your  right  shoulder  ; 
and  going  beneath  a  leaning  ladder ;  and  the  pick- 
ing up  of  pins." 

Father  Brugan  interrupted  him  with  a  swift 
gesture  of  impatience  at  such  levity.  "  It's  hardly 
a  question  of  that.  The  point  doesn't  lie  in  that 
direction." 

"  It  reminds  me,"  said  Colonel  Gerrish,  with  the 
unmistakable  air  of  the  story,  "  of  a  pet  supersti- 
tion that  has  grown  into  a  belief.  There's  a  cer- 
tain spring  out  here,  about  a  hundred  miles ;  of 
course,  in  this  dry  land  we  know  every  drop  of 
water.  Now,  this  is  clean,  sweet  water,  and  to 
pass  it  by  means  hardships,  for  there's  no  other 
within  thirty  miles.  Yet  infantrymen  will  never 
use  it  except  under  protest ;  they  say  it  brings 
bad  luck,  and,  of  course,  that  is  nothing  but  su- 
perstition.    But  the  fact  is  that  it  docs  bring  bad 


156    -  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

luck — or,  perliaps,  you  would  rather  I  said  bad 
luck  has  followed  the  using  of  it  in  all  my  experi- 
ence. So  it  gets  to  be  a  matter  of  belief.  There 
was  no  superstition  until  tlie  bad  luck  began  to 
come,  and  then  belief  followed  pretty  quick.  I.sn't 
that  a  curious  case  ?  " 

"Yes,  certainly,"  said  Father  Brugan,  good-hu- 
moredly;  "but  you  don't  argue  anything  from  it, 
do  you  ?  At  least,  nothing  more  than  that  infan- 
trymen are  superstitious?  " 

"  Huh !  "  he  grumbled.  "  It's  a  matter  of  certain- 
ty !  I'd  stake  my  commission  on  it — and  you  won't 
accuse  me  of  being  superstitious  ?  "  he  challenged. 

"  Why,  Colonel — you  will  pardon  me — but  you 
seem  to  stand  upon  your  own  conviction,"  the 
priest  replied.  The  colonel  looked  about  in  con- 
fusion ;  his  face  became  red,  and  his  hair,  nearly 
Avliite,  rose  in  startling  contrast  about  it.  He 
smiled  doubtfully,  and  then  joined  the  laugh 
against  him. 

"Well,  I'm  in  good  company,  and  we'll  have  to 
countenance  each  other,"  lie  bellowed,  amiably. 

Spurbridge  was  seething  with  impatience  to  put 
a  question.  "  Colonel,  I'm  wondering  if  we  didn't 
stop  at  that  spring  ?  I  suppose  we  found  all  the 
water  in  the  Territory."  He  mentioned. localities 
and  marches  until  the  colonel  held  him  in  check 
by  a  gesture. 

"That's  enough!"  lie  cried.  "Did  you  take 
water  from  there  ?  " 


ON  THE   OFFENSIVE  167 

"Yes,  cei-tainly  ;  there  was  no  other." 

"  Of  course,  of  course." 

"  I  heard  some  of  the  men  saj'ing  something 
about  it,"  Spurbridge  continued,  "  but  I  paid  no 
attention.  Thought  it  Avas  tlieir  rougii  ignorance. 
You  really  think  there  is  something  in  it,  sir  ?  " 

"Do  I?  I  am  ouly  surprised  that  you  killed 
any  game  ;  that  3'ou  didn't  kill  each  other ;  that 
any  rag  of  the  outfit  ever  got  back  to  the  post." 

Mrs.  Gerrish  rustled  softly  in  her  seat.  "  Per- 
haps the  spring  has  lost  its  virtue,"  she  suggested. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  That  is  Old  Faithful !  "  roared 
the  colonel,  taking  up  cudgels  in  its  defence. 
"  There  will  something  come  of  it  yet !  " 

"  Isn't  there  any  statute  of  limitations  ?  "  asked 
Lawrence.  Spurbridge  smiled  appreciatively,  but 
the  colonel  remained  glum. 

"  It  will  come,"  he  insisted.  "  I  never  knew  it 
to  fail " 

Mrs.  Gerrish  turned  sharply  to  Lydia.  "  My 
dear,  don't  you  think  you  might  tell  some  of  our 
fortunes  ?  "  she  asked,  to  change  the  current  of 
talk.  For  the  colonel,  sunk  in  inky  depth,  Avas 
foreshadowing  disaster  and  imparting  a  blue  tone 
to  the  evening.  Spurbridge  was  in  a  state  of  wide- 
eyed  surprise  that  so  able  an  officer  should  share 
the  delusion  of  the  enlisted  men ;  Lawrence,  in  his 
longer  experience,  recognized  it  as  a  common  con- 
dition ;  and  the  priest  was  considering  superstition 
in  a  new  light — if  Colonel  Gerrish  was  a  slave  to 


158  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

it,  who  might  be  free  ?  He  himself  might  not  be 
so  enlightened  as  to  care  nothing  for  omens,  after 
all ;  and  he  feared  it  might  have  been  a  lack  of 
experience  that  had  led  him  to  assert  himself  so 
definitively  on  the  subject. 

Mrs.  Gerrish  leaned  forward  to  command  Lydia's 
attention.  "Fortunes,  my  dear?"  she  suggested 
again.  Lydia  responded  with  a  nervous  start. 
The  priest,  who  seemed  never  to  miss  her  emo- 
tions, was  looking  at  her  in  a  kind  of  wonder.  To 
him,  Mrs.  Gerrish's  thought  seemed  born  of  the 
conversation.  And  what  was  this  thing  Lydia  was 
about  to  do  ?  Did  these  people  aflect  to  search 
out  their  futures  by  mortal  means  ? 

Spurbridge  loyally  roused  himself  to  second 
Mrs.  Gerrish's  move.  "  Yes,  do  tell  fortunes.  Miss 
Gerrish,"  he  implored.  "Yours  are  ah\ays  so 
happy — and  you  tell  them  with  such  a  delightful 
air  of  probability  that  they  are  quite  impressive. 
I  always  have  faith  in  mine,  no  matter  how  often 
or  how  Avidely  they  vary." 

She  laughed  at  him  uneasily.  "You  don't  give 
my  fortunes  a  very  good  character  ;  they  might  be 
thought  inconsistent — and  whatever  else  they  are, 
they  are  not  that." 

"  Indeed,  no.  Love,  letters,  journeys,  money — 
so  far  as  I  have  lived  there  is  no  fault  to  find  with 
your  practice  of  the  hidden  art,"  he  replied. 

Lydia  looked  about  the  party  despairingly. 
'•  But  I  have  told  all  your  fortunes  so  many  times 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  159 

there  is  no  fun  in  it,"  she  complained.  "  I  know 
you  all  too  well.  It  isn't  fair  that  I  should  know 
anything,  for  my  art  is  all-sufficient."  She  carried 
this  off  with  so  fine  an  air  of  truth  that  even  her 
most  constant  subjects  were  impressed  by  it. 

"  You  never  told  Father  Brugan's,  did  you  ? " 
Mrs.  Lawrence  asked,  to  help  her  from  her  quan- 
dary. 

"  No,"  said  the  priest,  hearing  his  name  spoken, 
"she  never  has  told  mine.  Is  it  difficult?  It  is 
something  I  never  saw  done." 

"  Oh,  it  is  quite  easy  when  you  have  so  good  a 
fortune  -  teller  as  she  ! "  Mrs.  Lawrence  cried. 
"Lydia,  you  must  tell  his."  Immediately  there 
was  a  soft  clamor  about  the  room  that  tlie  priest's 
fortune  should  be  told.  He  seemed  in  no  way 
averse ;  but  she  shrank  from  the  task.  A  respect 
for  his  cloth  rendered  her  unwilling  to  make  him 
a  party  to  anything  so  frivolous.  Moreover,  as 
love  was  the  principal  quantity  in  the  fortunes  she 
dispensed,  and  could  have  no  place  in  his,  there 
was  but  a  sorry  exhibition  of  her  art  in  prospect. 
But  they  desired  it,  and  pressed  her  to  do  it;  and 
at  last  she  found  herself  saying  : 

"  Well,  if  Father  Brugan  is  willing — but  reall}' 
I  don't  see  how  I  can  do  him  justice."  She  was 
laughing  nervously  as  he  moved  over  to  her,  but 
she  tried  to  assume  an  impressive  manner.  "  You 
must  know,"  said  she,  "  that  it  is  really  difficult, 
and  that  the  cards  and  the  lines  of  your  hand  do 


160  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

tell  the  exact  truth,  no  matter  what  some  people 
say."  She  indicated  Spurbridge  and  Mrs.  Law- 
rence as  having  fallen  beneath  her  displeasure. 
"And  you  must  believe  what  I  tell  you,  or  it  will 
be  of  no  avail,"  she  concluded. 

He  laughed  quite  merrily  at  the  absurdity  of  her 
caution,  and  the  laugh  Avent  round  with  cackle  and 
chuckle.  "  Of  course  I  shall  believe,"  he  said. 
"  It  will  be  easy— and  belief  will  be  free  from 
superstition." 

"Oh,  decidedly,"  she  said,  reprovingly.  "You 
must  not  even  think  of  that." 

"  Let  me  see  your  hand,"  she  suddenly  com- 
manded, in  a  tone  of  mystic  import ;  and  he  ex- 
tended a  palm  that  trembled  slightly  in  spite  of 
his  effort  to  prevent  it.  She  studied  its  lines,  and 
touched  the  finger-tips  to  turn  them  and  examine 
their  shape.  At  her  touch  the  blood  rushed  to  his 
face  from  the  very  strangeness  of  the  experience  ; 
it  was  as  though  he  had  never  taken  her  hand — 
and  she,  surely,  had  never  taken  his.  Spurbridge 
noticed  his  color,  and,  leaning  to  Mrs.  Lawrence, 
whispered : 

"  He  seems  to  like  it !  " 

She  nodded  lightly,  but  remembered  with  regret 
her  well-meant  caution  to  Lydia.  The  priest  held 
himself  suddenly  erect,  and  Lydia  drojjped  his 
hand,  saying  she  had  gained  the  insight  needed. 
Then  she  told  what  the  lines  of  his  palm  indicated. 
He  was  greatly  surprised  at  her  power,  not  know- 


OxY  THE  OFFENSIVE  161 

ing  whether  to  class  it  as  knowledge  or  as  a  result 
of  some  subtle  iufliience  ;  and  he  listened  intently, 
occasionally  interrupting  to  admit  "  That  is  right !  " 
or  "  That  is  so  ! "  until  she  had  finished. 

Then  she  took  the  cards  and  told  a  fortune  from 
them  with  all  the  impressiveness  of  Avhich  she  was 
capable.  Upon  the  priest,  habituated  to  with- 
drawing into  himself  and  there  communing  with 
the  spirit,  all  unused  to  anything  like  this,  the 
eflfect  was  deep.  He  was  impressed  by  her  earn- 
estness, which  she  carried  to  such  an  extent  as  to 
leave  small  suspicion  of  her  sincerity.  He  found 
it  possible  to  reconcile  much  that  she  said  with 
facts  of  his  life  known  only  to  himself,  and  this 
made  him  the  more  credulous  of  what  she  said  for 
the  future. 

Then  she  gave  the  cards  a  final  shuffle  and  di- 
rected him  to  make  two  wishes  :  one  should  be  on 
any  matter  he  pleased  ;  the  other,  to  be  his  secret, 
should  be  the  dearest  thing  imaginable  to  him. 

She  manipulated  the  cards,  and  glanced  up 
gayly.  "  Your  first  wish  is  granted,"  she  an- 
nounced.    "  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  wished  that  the  infamous  spring  might  lose 
its  unkind  power,  so  that  the  happiness  of  this 
good  company  should  continue,"  he  said. 

Miss  Gerrish  bent  upon  him  her  severest  frown. 
"  Ah,  that  includes  yourself.  You  should  have 
Avished  but  for  others  ;  the  next  is  for  yourself 
alone." 

11 


1G2  ON  THE   OFFENSIVE 

"  No,"  he  insisted,  "  I  wished  but  for  others. 
How  could  I  include  myself,  not  knowing  if  the 
other  is  to  be  granted  ?  " 

She  studied  the  cards  again.  Once  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  his  face  and  saw  that  he  was  regarding 
her  intently.  He  had  evidently  made  a  serious 
wish  and  would  attach  weight  to  her  answer. 
What  should  she  say  ?  All  the  effectiveness  of  her 
performance  depended  now  upon  that  answer. 
What  was  his  wish  ?  She  was  puzzled.  But  it 
would  not  do  to  fall  weakly  now.  She  had  given 
him  his  character  according  to  her  understanding 
of  palmistry  ;  she  had  told  him  a  fortune  that  was 
pleasant,  and  shot  through  here  and  there  with  a 
line  of  thoughtful  effort.  She  had  granted  one 
wish  ;  would  it  do  to  grant  this  other  ?  Or  would 
a  bit  of  tragedy — the  tragedy  of  disappointment- 
be  better  ?  For  she  was  artistic,  if  nothing  else, 
and  was  intent  upon  rounding  out  her  exhibition 
symmetrically.  That  decided  her ;  he  had  had 
enough  that  was  good. 

At  that  point  she  sat  back  very  erectly,  and 
said  : 

"  And  now  your  last  and  greatest  wish.  It  will 
never  be  fulfilled  to  you — here,  there,  anywhere." 

She  was  looking  directly  at  him,  and  saw  that 
he  went  white.  He  even  made  an  unconscious 
effort  to  grasp  the  edge  of  the  table. 

"  You  are  quite  sure  ?  "  he  asked,  huskily. 

"  Quite,"  she  replied,  mercilessly.     Because  of 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  1G3 

liey  army  birtli  and  life  she  would  be  firm  to  cany 
out  the  performance  on  the  lines  she  had  chosen. 

Then  he  turned  away  and  sank  into  a  chair. 
Lydia  was  overwhelmed  with  chagrin  as  she 
looked  at  him  ;  but  for  the  effect  of  the  game  she 
might  have  disavowed  the  degree  of  seriousness  he 
plainly  attributed  to  it.  His  disappointment  was 
patent  to  all  the  party. 

"  Beally,  Lydia,  you  are  too  bad,"  the  colonel 
remonstrated. 

She  defended  herself.     "  How  could  I  help  it  ?  " 

"  No,  Lydia.  A  joke  is  well  enough,  but  don't 
carry  it  to  an  extreme,"  said  her  mother,  keenly 
disappointed  in  the  result  of  her  suggestion. 

They  showered  reproaches  upon  Lydia  in  hope 
of  seeing  the  priest  cast  off  his  gloom.  The}^  as- 
sured him  that  it  was  only  a  game,  and  that  no 
importance  could  attach  to  it ;  but  it  Avas  effort 
thrown  away.  He  held  up  his  head  and  forced  a 
smile  ;  but  all  his  enjoyment  of  the  evening  Avas 
fioAvn.  And  then  he  gathered  himself  for  a  leave- 
taking. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  Lydia  said,  self-reproachfully. 
"  You  must  not  take  it  to  heart  ;  it  is  only  for 
amusement." 

"I  am  sure  of  it,"  he  said.  "You  are  in  no 
way  to  blame." 

He  lingered  a  moment  at  the  door.  "  What  am 
I  to  think  ?  "  she  asked,  making  a  faint  attempt 
at  rally.     "  Are  you  a  Avee  bit  superstitious  ?  " 


164  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"■  I  don't  know  what  to  call  it,"  lie  said,  frankly 
as  became  their  friendship.  "  I  am  oppressed, 
weighed  down,  with  a  nameless  fear.  Do  you 
know  what  that  is  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  It  comes  upon  one  without  reason 
for  it." 

"  Yes.  I  wished — that  for  which  I  have  always 
hoped — wished  it  quite  naturally  ;  but  I  believe  I 
did  it  as  a  sort  of  test.  "Well,  it  has  joassed,  and 
now  I  have  this  fear.     Good-night !  " 

"  Good-night !     Don't  think  any  more  about  it." 

He  was  down  on  the  gi'avelled  walk.  "  Ah,  if 
you  knew  how  impossible  that  is  !  "  he  called  up 
to  her.  '  Then  he  walked  away  into  the  night. 

Out  by  the  gate  that  permitted  his  exit  from  the 
Fort,  he  came  uj)on  a  small  bundle  of  sorrow,  lying- 
in  wait  for  him.  It  shivered  in  the  frosty  night, 
and  drew  closer  to  him.  He  looked  at  it  with  the 
dispassionate  interest  of  the  priest,  and  then, 
recognizing  it,  spoke  with  the  authority  of  a  guide. 

"  Kitty  !  Why  are  you  out  here  ?  You  should 
be  at  home  and  in  bed." 

"  Mother  wanted  me  to  see  you,"  Kitty  whis- 
pered. "  Father's  back  to-day,  and  he's  took  his 
money  and  gone  to  town." 

"  Yes,  Kitty,  I  will  find  him  and  send  him  home. 
Run,  now,  and  tell  your  mother."  He  spoke  with 
such  kindness  and  gentle,  forceful  authority,  that 
Kitty   was   comforted  and    ran    quickly ;   for   the 


ox   THE  OFFENSIVE  105 

mother,  watching  by  a  sick  yoimg  child,  coiild  not 
know  the  cheering  truth  otherwise.  And  the 
priest  followed  the  path  to  town. 

He  descended  the  hill,  crossed  the  creek,  and 
walked  up  the  middle  of  the  sandy  avenue.  As 
he  reached  its  head  there  came  to  his  ears  a  con- 
fused mingling  of  heavy  steps  and  heavier  voices, 
some  moaning,  some  cursing,  all  coming  nearer. 
A  number  of  dark  forms  strung  along  through  the 
gloom ;  and  at  their  head,  three  men,  walking 
abreast  and  leaning  strongly  toward  the  inner 
one,  came  into  view.  The  priest  stopped.  And 
then  Killeen  shouted  a  glad  recognition,  and  Rob- 
inson followed  it  with  : 

"  Gavin,  Father — Gavin  between  us  here — and 
he's  dyiug  !  " 

Gavin  lurched  heavily  forward  from  the  grasp 
of  his  companions,  holding  out  his  hands  implor- 
ingly and  making  a  piteous  moan,  and  fell  at  the 
feet  of  the  priest.  Father  Brugan  knelt  by  him, 
and  the  night  grew  still  around  ;  but  it  was  the 
breathless  atmosphere  of  death.  There,  at  the 
head  of  the  avenue,  Gavin's  life  ran  out ;  and  un- 
heeding feet  bore  awa}^  the  red  stain  of  the  pool 
with  no  sense  of  the  sacrilege. 


VII 


Ralph  had  slipped  into  the  post  by  the  dark 
spaces  between  barracks,  and  reached  his  quarters 
without  being  seen  of  anyone.  He  breathed  a 
gasp  of  relief  when  he  at  last  closed  his  outer 
door  against  the  world.  From  the  moment  he 
had  seen  Bool  into  jail,  and  started  home,  he  had 
had  a  haunting  sense  of  eyes  upon  him,  a  fear  of 
authoritative  persons  suddenly  evolving  themselves 
from  the  darkness,  and  putting  to  him  questions 
whose  answers  would  be  but  self-accusations.  He 
cowered  beneath  the  reproachful  stars,  and  Avas 
glad  when  a  roof  stretched  its  friendly  shelter  be- 
tween him  and  them. 

He  held  himself  morally  to  blame  for  Gavin's 
death.  The  thought  made  him  shiver,  and  he 
reached  for  the  whiskey  on  the  mantel  and  swal- 
lowed a  stiff  glass  to  steady  his  nerves.  It  was 
not  as  though,  in  the  field,  he  had  ordered  the 
man  on  some  fatal  duty.  The  difference  was  as 
great  for  him  as  for  Gavin— as  great  as  between 
losing  one's  life  in  the  discharge  of  a  soldier's 
duty,  and  losing  it  in  a  barroom  brawl.  He  had 
countenanced  Gavin  in  a  disgraceful  proceeding, 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  167 

and  if  liis  share  of  it  came  out  lie  would  be  likely 
to  hear  from  it  through  official  channels  ;  the  War 
Department  would  want  to  know  why  army  officers 
had  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  sit  around  in 
drinking-places  and  incite  men  to  batter  one  an- 
other. This  was  plainly  conduct  unbecoming  an 
officer  and  a  gentleman,  as  the  official  phrase  went, 
and  the  upshot  might  be  that  the  War  Department 
would  be  willing  to  dispense  with  the  further  ser- 
vices of  such  an  officer.  It  was  necessary  every 
little  while  to  make  some  offender  serve  the  pur- 
pose of  an  awful  example  ;  suppose  it  should  come 
his  turn  for  that  ? 

He  suddenly  discovered  that  he  had  offended 
both  deeply  and  often.  A  man  might  go  on  in- 
definitely committing  offences  against  honor  and 
morality,  and  not  be  aware  of  his  own  degrada- 
tion ;  it  required  some  such  event  as  this  to  open 
his  eyes  for  a  clear  inward  glance.  And  thus  per- 
ceiving how  deeply  he  must  have  offended  on 
many  other  occasions  to  have  been  able  to  take  a 
leading  part  in  this,  he  was  the  more  able  to  per- 
ceive the  truly  exalted  station  he  should  occupy  as 
an  officer,  became  more  fully  conscious  of  the  re- 
quirements of  the  service.  How  he  had  fallen 
away  from  all  that !  He  felt  like  prostrating  him- 
self and  humbly  declaring  there  was  no  health  in 
him ;  he  fortified  himself  against  such  weakness 
with  another  swallow  of  whiskey. 

Most  curious  reflection  of  all  was  that  upon  his 


168  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

motive  in  spurring  Gavin  on.  Had  it  not  been  a 
man  he  knew  Avell,  of  course  he  would  have  done 
nothing  at  all ;  but  knowing  Gavin  with  the  in- 
timacy of  a  recent  camp,  knowing  that  he  was  a 
passable  boxer  and  that  the  uniform  would  gain  a 
little  prestige  in  that  crowd  of  lukewarm  admirers, 
he  had  urged  him  forward.  It  was  really  from  a 
feeling  of  pride  in  the  service.  He  wanted  the 
army  to  come  to  the  front,  make  its  prowess  felt, 
prove  that  it  was  as  able  in  the  individual  as  in  the 
mass.  Then,  too,  he  was  confident  that  Gavin,  or 
any  other  man  in  barracks,  would  do  as  he  told 
him.  He  found  a  certain  pride  in  this,  and  he  had, 
moreover,  a  touch  of  the  arrogance  that  comes  Avitli 
minor  power.  He  liked  to  tell  a  man  to  do  some- 
thing, partly  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  do  it. 
With  shame  he  suspected  himself  of  having  pan- 
dered to  this  foible  in  inciting  Gavin  to  slap  Bool's 
face — and  in  thinking  of  this,  he  became  aware 
that  he  had  really  wanted  to  see  a  match  ;  and 
then  he  stood  in  doubt  whether  to  charge  his  un- 
happy action  to  the  score  of  pride  in  the  service, 
or  to  his  own  selfish  desire  to  exercise  a  little  au- 
thority and  see  a  fight.  He  knew  that  if  he  had 
possessed  a  true  pride  in  the  service,  he  would  not 
have  sat  in  the  saloon  and  found  the  comjDauy  con- 
genial ;  and  as  this  settled  more  and  more  deeply 
into  his  mind,  he  shuddered  to  think  that  Gavin 
had  been  sacrificed  in  the  attempt  to  satisfy  his 
own  despicable  vanities  and  pleasures.     He  held 


OIT  THE  OFFENSIVE  169 

himself  in  abhorrence  for  the  conditions  that  made 
this  reflection  possible,  and  he  took  refuge  from 
others  like  it  in  deeper  drink.  Bj  and  by  he  flung 
himself,  without  undressing,  on  his  bed,  and  lay 
in  unconsciousness  till  morning. 

In  the  days  that  succeeded  he  felt  a  sense  of 
guilt  upon  him,  and  would  have  avoided  sight  like 
a  wounded  animal.  He  bought  the  silence  of  the 
saloon-keeper,  and  felt  that  this  was  a  straw  of 
hope  ;  but  he  did  not  visit  town  for  a  week,  fear- 
ing lest  someone,  looking  for  witnesses,  should 
recognize  him  even  in  the  change  from  civilian 
garb  to  uniform,  and  pounce  upon  him.  He  be- 
came conspicuously  attentive  to  his  duties,  and 
Colonel  Gerrish  congratulated  himself  on  getting 
him  away  on  the  hunting  trip,  and  breaking  in 
upon  his  gathering  associations.  But  it  was  a 
submissive  attention,  induced  by  fear  of  exposure 
and  disgrace.  He  said  very  little  about  the  affair 
to  anyone,  and  listened  to  the  denunciations  by 
officers  of  the  treatment  accorded  soldiers  in 
town  with  a  feeling  of  personal  implication.  As 
the  days  went  by  and  no  objectionable  features 
developed  for  him,  he  breathed  easier  ;  but  for  a 
time  he  bore  as  much  remorse  as  it  is  given  one 
man  to  carry. 

With  it  all  was  a  sense  that  some  penance,  some 
atonement,  was  demanded  of  him.  It  was  several 
days  before  he  could  find  a  way  in  which  to  ex- 
press this  feeling,  for  it  is  little  enough  one  man 


170  ON  THE   OFFENSIVE 

can  do  for  another  avIio  is  -dead.  But  when  Gav- 
in's affairs  were  looked  into  by  Captain  Burns, 
and  his  money  and  eiiects  set  apart  to  be  sent  his 
mother,  it  occurred  to  Ralph  that  he  might  make 
an  offering  of  money.  That  was  a  revolting  way 
of  purchasing  peace  to  his  soul,  and  it  could  only 
indicate  his  desire  to  do  more,  if  there  was  more 
to  be  done.  He  started  to  give  the  captain  a  sum  to 
be  sent  Gavin's  mother,  and  then  hesitated,  think- 
ing such  unusual  action  would  be  likely  to  excite 
comment  and  draw  attention  upon  him.  So  that 
way  was  barred.  Eventually  he  gave  the  money  to 
the  priest,  knowing  that  he  had  so  many  secrets 
he  would  not  mind  one  more  ;  and  he  had  abso- 
lute faith  that  the  secret  would  be  closely  kept. 

As  if  to  plunge  him  to  yet  deeper  depths  of 
self-condemnation  and  despair,  the  hopelessness 
of  his  love  for  Lydia  Gerrish  seemed  now  more 
certain  than  ever.  Sometimes  he  felt  that  his 
constant  thought  must  induce  in  her  a  reflex 
thought  and  interest — although  he  ridiculed  him- 
self in  the  next  instant  for  entertaining  so  base- 
less a  hope.  He  even  made  sure  that  if  she 
thought  of  him  at  all,  it  would  be  to  connect  him 
in  some  way  with  Gavin's  death.  The  fact  that 
he  had  not  been  with  Spurbridge  on  the  evening 
of  their  return  was  a  point  against  him,  and  in 
her  mind  might  serve  to  indicate  his  connection 
with  the  tragedy.  She  would  not  be  approach- 
ing him  with  any  accusation  ;  it  was  only  that  he 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  171 

felt  he  must,  of  his  own  fault,  suffer  further  dim- 
inution in  her  regard.  Sometimes  he  wondered 
how  he  could  love  her,  and  yet  continue  in  the 
path  of  increasing  dissoluteness  in  which  his  feet 
were  set.  The  two  Avere  not  compatible ;  he 
should  have  abandoned  one  or  the  other,  but  this 
was  what  he  did  not  do. 

In  the  despair  which  he  permitted  himself,  he 
found  it  easy  to  be  jealous  of  almost  anyone. 
Now  it  was  some  chance  visitor,  or  some  officer 
who  came  on  temporary  duty,  was  courteously  at- 
tentive, and  then  hastened  away;  again,  it  was 
Spurbridge,  and  again,  it  was  even  the  priest.  He 
reviled  himself  in  round  terms  for  the  last,  believ- 
ing that  if  he  ever  had  a  disordered  imagination, 
it  showed  itself  in  this.  He  laughed  cynically  at 
himself,  and  said  it  was  an  indication  of  the  viru- 
lence of  liis  disease  ;  also,  that  the  disease  must 
run  its  natural  course,  for  he  Avould  not  offer  him- 
self to  her.  He  might  do  for  the  army,  but  he 
would  not  do  for  her.  There  were  two  kinds  of 
officers,  he  reflected  :  those  who  made  the  profes- 
sion of  arms  exalted,  and  those  who  w'ere  simply 
food  for  powder.  He  would  have  to  class  himself 
with  the  last ;  he  was  good  enough  to  shoot,  al- 
though shooting  might  be  too  good  for  hira.  Time 
had  been  when  he  looked  upon  himself  as  being 
in  the  other  class ;  but  that  had  been  long  before, 
and  he  had  allowed  himself  free  frontier  license 
since  then.     If  he  had   fallen  in   love  when   ho 


172  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

was  younger,  and  the  service  seemed  to  hold 
something  of  promise  for  him,  that  promise  might 
have  been  fultilled.  But  in  those  days  he  was 
heart  free  ;  and  it  was  now,  when  he  had  gone 
down  a  grade,  that  he  loved  the  more  deeply  be- 
cause it  was  so  hopeless.  That  was  the  irony  of 
fate  ;  he  recognized  it.  He  tried  to  carry  off  the 
despair  of  it  as  bravely  to  himself  as  he  did  in  the 
face  of  the  garrison  ;  he  jeered  at  it,  and  reckless- 
ly invited  further  inflictions  of  fate  through  the 
medium  of  the  whiskey  bottle.  He  would  have 
leaped  at  the  opportunity  to  do  Lydia  a  service — 
and  then  die.  He  would  have  had  no  melodra- 
matic turning  of  his  dying  gaze  upon  her,  that  she 
might  then  learn  the  secret  of  his  heart's  love  and 
shed  tears  inordinately  over  it.  He  wanted  to  be 
of  some  use  to  her,  and  have  that  satisfaction  ; 
then  the  end  might  come  as  it  would. 

When  the  day  of  Gavin's  funeral  came  and 
Father  Brugan  appeared  to  conduct  the  service, 
Kal]ih  turned  out  with  the  other  officers  and 
marched  to  the  grave  that  had  been  made  in  the 
God's  acre  reclaimed  from  the  prairie.  It  Avas  a 
crude  service,  pathetic  in  its  simplicity.  The  de- 
tails of  i\  military  funeral  were  observed  ;  the  body 
was  borne  on  an  artillery  caisson,  side-arms  were 
worn,  the  band  interminably  droned  a  dead 
march,  and  all  the  men  in  garrison  came  after  in 
slender  column,  dragging  their  feet  to  the  slow 


OJY  THE  OFFENSIVE  173 

music.  At  the  grave  stood  Father  Brugan,  tall 
and  erect  in  his  cassock.  He  made  the  service 
brief,  though  with  no  air  of  haste ;  he  repeated  a 
Latin  prayer,  intoned,  chanted,  and  left  the  dead 
soldier  lying  in  his  narrow  trench,,  while  all  the 
living  soldiers  gathered  there  were  subdued  by  his 
solemnity  and  earnestness,  and  marched  away  to 
await  their  turn  with  a  strange,  calm  comfort,  be- 
gotten of  his  presence,  in  their  hearts.  There  were 
faithful  believers,  and  scoffers ;  but  all  rested  then 
in  the  faith  that  Father  Brugan  would,  on  occasion, 
do  as  much  for  them  as  he  had  for  Gavin.  Not 
that  they  merited  it  or  could  claim  it  as  a  right, 
but  that  Father  Brugan  was  possessed  of  a  broad 
catholicity  of  sentiment  that  enabled  him  to  disre- 
gard all  bounds  of  prejudice,  and  to  recognize  as 
alone  of  true  worth  the  claim  of  the  Maker  upon 
each  of  his  children  here  on  earth.  The  priest 
knew  a  soldier's  weaknesses  —  perhaps  with  a 
deeper  knowledge  than  the  soldiers  themselves. 
He  deplored,  but  he  never  shrank  in  his  fight  for 
righteousness.  And  a  man  might  have  been  weak, 
sinful,  and  erring  however ;  but  he  could  be  very 
sure  that  in  his  last  moments  here,  his  first  mo- 
ments there,  Father  Brugan  would  not  desert  him. 
He  would  make  smooth  his  going  and  speak  a 
good  word  for  him  ;  and  the  men  felt  instinctively 
that  wdth  such  credentials  it  would  be  very  well 
with  them.  They  could  not  have  told  you  why, 
but  it  did  not  matter.     Their  reliance  upon  the 


174  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

priest  was  uplifting,  even  to  the  point  of  giving 
them  faith  in  divine  things  which  otherwise  they 
had  not  thought  of  at  alL 

The  cohimn  marched  away  from  the  grave,  back 
to  the  iDOst,  the  band  phiying  its  liveliest,  most 
inspiring  quickstep.  That  was  the  army  way—  a 
wail  for  the  approach,  a  triumph  for  the  return  ; 
but  it  seemed  much  like  a  psean  of  rejoicing  that 
the  ceremony  was  over,  and  that  now  they  might 
return  to  a  contemplation  of  other  things  than 
death  in  life  and  the  resurrection.  The  screaming- 
fife  and  throbbing  tenor  drum  might  better  have 
been  silenced  till  only  echoes  should  have  dis- 
turbed the  air  over  Gavin's  grave.  But  the  garri- 
son had  done  its  mourning,  and  was  now  ready  for 
other  duties.  Here,  perhaps,  Uiy  an  unsuspected 
advantage  of  the  militaiy  life ;  the  little  round  of 
duties  recurred  as  regularly  as  the  dawn,  and  de- 
manded imperatively  to  be  performed.  One  who 
had  passed  from  it  all  could  not  long  be  mourned 
when  other  things  required-  attention. 

As  Father  Brugan  walked  down  the  line  after 
his  return  to  the  post,  he  saw  Lydia  Gerrish  on 
her  porch.  In  vieAv  of  the  assistance  she  had  given 
liim  in  his  work  he  could  not  pass  without  speak- 
ing at  a  little  length.  She  was  glad  he  stopped, 
and  had  even  been  asking  herself  if  he  would. 
They  had  not  met  since  the  unhappy  evening  of 
fortune-telling,  and  she  did  not  know  if  this  A\as 
l)y  chance  or  by  intention. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  175 

They  spoke  of  unimportant  things,  as  people 
will  when  they  meet  after  some  events  of  unusnal 
consequence  for  both,  of  which  there  is  a  tacit 
delicacy  of  speaking.  Then  Gavin  was  mentioned  ; 
the  priest  said  yes,  he  had  just  come  from  the 
grave.  Lydia  knew  this  without  being  told.  The 
matters  of  which  they  spoke  passed  before  her 
mind  as  mechanically  as  figures  in  a  kaleidoscope. 
She  felt  such  qualms  of  conscience  for  the  priest's 
sorrow  that  she  could  think  only  of  that.  She 
looked  at  him  inquiringly,  but  he  seemed  not  to 
observe  this.  Once  he  made  a  movement  as  of 
going,  and  then  she  hastened  to  speak  the  words 
on  her  tongue,  fearful  that  he  might  go  without 
giving  her  a  chance. 

"  You  have  not  been  over  here  so  much  of  late," 
she  began,  awkwardly.  The  night  of  reference 
was  not  so  far  in  the  past. 

"  Three  days  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  rising  inflec- 
tion.     "  Is  that  so  long  ?  " 

She  threw  aside  pretence  as  unworthy  of  use 
with  one  so  far  removed  from  deceptive  phrases  as 
he.  "  You  haven't  observed  my  request  of  the 
other  night — ^to  think  no  more  of  it,"  she  said. 
His  somewhat  careworn  face  struck  her  as  more 
deeply  lined,  a  little  thinner,  than  she  had  seen  it. 

He  wavjed  his  hand  as  though  to  brush  her  sug- 
gestion aside.  "I  told  you  then  it  was  impossi- 
ble," he  said,  brusquely. 

"  I  have  blamed  myself  ever  since,"  she  protest- 


176  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

ed,  earnestly.  "  It  was  so  cliildisli,  so  silly  of  me  ! 
To  have  given  you  such  trouble  was —  But  I  have 
been  well  punished  for  it ;  I  am  glad  I  have !  It 
has  been  a  lesson  to  me."  He  would  have  pre- 
vented her  saj'ing  so  much,  but  she  had  no  desire 
to  exculpate  herself,  and  persisted  in  her  self-con- 
demnation. 

"  I  do  not  wish  you  to  say  all  this,"  he  declared, 
when  at  length  he  had  the  chance.  "  Of  course,  it 
was  a  game — I  had  never  witnessed  it — perhaps 
you  played  it  with  rare  skill " 

"  Oh  !  "  she  cried,  contritely,  "  I  plajed  as  well 
as  ever  I  knew  !  " 

"  AVell,  that  is  not  a  fault,  surely,"  he  said,  gent- 
ly. "  Your  object  was  to  amuse  the  company — 
and  doubtless  you  succeeded." 

"  No,  don't  say  that,"  she  implored.  It  made  it 
seem  as  though  they  had  taken  delight  in  his  mis- 

ei-y. 

"  I  am  not  considering  myself  at  all,"  he  as- 
sured her.  "You  did  your  part  excellently.  I 
was  wrong  to  take  it  so  to  heart.  Perhaps — per- 
haps," he  said,  slowly,  "I  should  not  have  done  so 
had  I  not  felt  that  I  deserved  all  you  said.  My 
wish  should  not  be  granted." 

She  looked  at  him  inquiringly,  hardly  daring 
to  formulate  her  desire.  But  he  continued,  after 
a  slight  pause : 

"It  was  something  I  had  thought  of — had  dwelt 
upon  —  a   great   deal.     I   had   questioned   myself 


ON   THE  OFFENSIVE  177 

about  it — after  my  visits  here — and  when  you  re- 
quired my  dearest  wish,  I  made  that  one.  I  had 
feared  I  was  unworthy  of  its  fulfihnent— and  your 
phrase  of  denial  seemed  to  fill  my  cujd  of  disap- 
pointment." 

"I  would  never  have  brought  in  a  serious  ques- 
tion seriously,"  she  said.  "I  should  not  have 
dared  to." 

"  This  icas  serious,"  he  repeated,  "  and  I  had 
dwelt  upon  it  till  it  was  ever  with  me.  I  could 
have  made  no  different  wish.  In  truth  I  must  tell 
you  now,  for  we  are  very  frank  with  each  other  ;  I 
feared  I  had  sinned — in  my  heart.  The  sin  had 
stolen  upon  me — taken  me  unaware  ;  and  it  was 
sweet — as  sin  must  ever  be " 

She  had  drawn  back  as  he  spoke,  and  regarded 
him  with  a  look  of  horror.  "  You  sin  ?  "  she  cried, 
incredulously.     "  You  could  not !  " 

He  shook  his  head  and  smiled  at  her,  gravely. 
"  You  will  not  believe  me  ?  Never  mind ;  it  must 
remain  so.  I  can,  at  least,  limit  it ;  the  sin  was  in 
my  heart — it  shall  never  go  beyond  there." 

The  interpretation  she  put  on  his  words  was 
in  accordance  with  her  habit  of  life  —  was  that 
of  a  girl  pure,  but  not  saintly  —  and  it  left  her 
groping. 

"  And  my  wish,"  she  became  conscious  he  was 

saying.     He  stood  read}^  to   depart.     "  That  you 

may  know  of  what  importance  it  was  to  me,  I  shall 

tell  you.     Because  it  was  not  granted,  I  knew  my 

12 


178  ON  THE  OFB^ENHIVE 

sin  was  fixed  ;  for  my  wish  was  for  the  eternal  sal- 
vation of  my  soul." 

He  had  taken  his  leave  before  she  was  aware, 
and  was  out  on  the  parade,  walking  swiftly  away. 
It  was  not  until  then  that  she  realized  what  this 
was  that  he  suffered — not  until  then  did  she  per- 
ceive what  this  sin  of  his  might  be  ;  and  even  then 
the  knowledge  came  through  the  swift  recollection 
of  Millicent  Lawrence's  warning,  at  which  she  had 
weakly  taken  umbrage.  The  priest  had  feared  to 
find  in  his  heart  a  feeling  toward  her,  unjoriestly  ; 
that  would  have  been,  for  him,  unpardonable.  But 
for  her,  what  w^as  it  save  surprise  that  was  neither 
joy  nor  sorrow — something  before  unthought  of, 
all  unknown  to  her? 

She  leaned  impetuously  forward,  caressing  his 
retreating  form  with  her  glance.  "  Oh ! "  she 
spoke,  involuntarily — and  then,  fearing  he  heard 
her,  clapped  her  hand  over  her  mouth  in  dismay. 

He  did  hear — or  fancied  he  did.  He  turned  to 
see  if  she  might  be  calling  to  him,  but  saw  her  sit- 
ting as  he  had  left  her.  She  waved  one  hand 
slightly — a  token  of  understanding — of  sympathy 
— of  farewell — what  ?  The  priest  turned  sharply 
on  his  heel  and  walked  yet  more  rapidly  toward 
town,  his  lips  moving  silently  as  though  forming 
the  words  of  a  prayer. 


VIII 

In  the  quiet  mid-winter  clays  that  followed  his 
return,  Spui'bridge  set  earnestly  about  the  occu- 
pation of  his  leisure  time.  He  had  been  much 
strengthened  in  his  resolution  by  the  interest 
shown  by  Lydia,  for  he  had  anticij)ated  shutting 
himself  away  from  the  officers  and  ladies  of  the 
post  and  digging  hard  at  his  task  ;  and  that  was 
not  a  pleasant  prospect.  The  officers  would  dub 
him  a  crank  and  an  unsociable  fellow,  and  the  la- 
dies would  dispose  of  his  case  with  the  light  com- 
ment so  characteristic  of  them.  Some  of  this 
would  come  to  his  ears  eventually  and  be  irritat- 
ing ;  for  he  intended  to  take  himself  seriously,  and 
he  did  not  want  to  be  held  in  light  esteem  for  it. 
Lydia's  sympathy  was,  therefore,  very  grateful.  It 
held  him  up  to  the  fulfilment  of  his  self-imposed 
task  and  gave  him  added  confidence  in  himself. 
And  it  became  easy  for  him,  lying  leisurely  before 
his  grate  fire,  to  behold  himself — not  so  very  far  in 
the  future — an  author  of  both  merit  and  fame,  at- 
tending to  military  duties  in  a  manner  beyond 
censure,  and  in  spare  hours  writing  works — works, 
indeed  ! — that  commanded   an   instant  sale,    that 


180  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

were  on  every  book-counter  in  the  United  States, 
that  were  the  subject  of  the  literary  criticism  and 
conversation  of  the  day.  He  rather  hoped  the 
criticism  would  not  all  be  favorable  ;  a  diversity  of 
opinion  would  indicate  great  joower  in  his  works. 
And  he  would  be  held  in  the  highest  esteem 
throughout  the  army  as  one  who  had  combined 
the  dignity  of  the  pen  with  the  lustre  of  the  sword, 
conferring  new  and  desirable  honors  upon  the  ser- 
vice thereby.  This  was  all  in  the  direct  path  of 
his  future,  Avas  now  almost  within  his  grasp,  and 
he  was  about  to  step  forward  and  claim  it  for  his 
own ;  his  mind  was  made  up  to  it,  and  he  had 
received  unexpected  encouragement. 

It  occurred  to  him  that  Miss  Gerrish,  in  addition 
to  her  lovable  nature,  must  be  a  girl  of  uncommon 
gifts,  in  that  she,  and  she  alone,  had  penetrated  the 
possibilities  of  his  mind.  He  was  glad  he  knew 
her,  and  even  the  reflection  that  some  day,  when 
people  would  be  speaking  to  her  of  the  brilliant 
young  officer  and  author  in  her  father's  regiment, 
she  would  detail  to  them  the  history  of  his  early 
attempts  and  take  credit  to  herself  for  having 
pushed  him  forward,  did  not  materially  detract 
from  his  enjoyment.  He  would,  of  course,  prefer 
to  have  all  the  credit  to  himself  ;  he  really  deserved 
it,  because  he  had  determined  upon  his  course 
before  a  word  of  it  was  spoken  between  them. 
But  after  all,  this  would  bear  a  family  likeness  to 
the  experiences  of  other  authors  ;  there  had  always 


ox  THE  OFFEXSIVE  Ibl 

been  women  to  whom  they  looked  for  support  in 
critical  moments  and  who  seemed  never  to  fail  them. 
These  women  were  generally  content  to  remain  un- 
known, save  for  such  rare  acknowledgment  as  the 
authors  might  make.  Here,  then,  was  an  oppor- 
timity  for  him  to  rise  above  the  commonalty  of 
authors  ;  he  would  sink  selfishness  into  imsounded 
depths  and  be  suitably  generous  in  his  acknowl- 
edgment of  Miss  Gerrish's  share  in  his  fame.  His 
desire  to  blazon  abroad  her  honors  became  well- 
nigh  feverish,  and  it  was  with  a  little  touch  of  dis- 
may that  he  reflected  it  would  be  necessary  for  him 
to  win  fame  first. 

He  could  not  avoid  a  general  effect  of  amateur- 
ishness in  setting  about  his  undertaking,  for  he  was 
without  experience  ;  but  he  went  at  it  with  a  rush 
and  swirl  of  enthusiasm  that  partly  atoned  for  the 
pervading  crudity  of  the  proceeding.  He  had  read 
of  the  trials  of  authors,  and  was  posted  on  the  difli- 
culties  of  living  in  a  garret  on  a  crust  a  week,  and 
of  writing  in  stolen  moments  on  odd  scraps  of  pa- 
per. This,  he  decided,  was  not  essential  to  suc- 
cess ;  he  had  taken  notes  in  camp  and  did  not  think 
they  were  any  better  for  the  discomfort  of  their 
taking.  His  first  move,  then,  was  to  prepare  him- 
self for  comfortable  labor.  He  approached  the 
quarter-master  and  asked  for  a  writing-desk,  or  a 
table  that  would  answer  the  same  purpose.  The 
quarter-master  looked  at  him  as  though  the  request 
was  hardly  in  keeping  with   Spurbridge's  empty 


182  ON  THE   OFFKNf<IVE 

shoulder-straps  ;  but  seeing  that  the  youug  fellow 
was  in  deep  earnest — so  deep  that  he  was  uncon- 
scious of  stepping  beyond  his  accustomed  limits — 
softened  in  his  manner  and  said  lie  would  see  what 
could  be  done  ;  and  an  hoiu'  later  Spurbridge 
found  himself  in  possession  of  a  desk  every  whit 
as  good  as  that  in  the  office  of  the  commanding 
officer. 

Then  he  submitted  an  application  to  be  per- 
mitted to  receive  his  quarterly  allowance  of  sta- 
tionery ;  and  when  the  obliging  orderly  had 
brought  it  over  by  the  armful,  he  looked  at  it  on 
the  desk  Avitli  pride.  There  was  a  deep  bottle  of 
black  ink  for  the  body  of  the  manuscripts,  and  a 
shallow  bottle  of  red  ink  for  interlineations  and 
general  ornamentation ;  for  he  was  determined 
that  his  manuscripts  should  at  least  have  the 
quality  of  neatness.  Then,  with  the  mucilage, 
the  eraser,  the  sheaf  of  pencils,  and  the  handful 
of  pens,  everything  was  ready.  The  quires  of 
square  letter  and  of  long  legal  cap  lay  patiently 
before  him  in  their  purity,  waiting  to  receive  his 
thoughts.  It  occurred  to  him  that  it  Avas  going  to 
be  a  herculean  task  to  fill  those  pages  ;  but  that 
was  the  task  he  had  set  himself,  that  Avas  the  task 
Miss  Gerrish  was  expecting  him  to  perform,  and 
he  could  not  retreat  in  the  face  of  it.  He  must 
undertake  it,  and  in  doing  so  gain  success.  He 
bethought  him  of  a  foolish  story  of  a  man  who 
decided  out-of-hand  to  make  a  book  ;  and  sitting 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  183 

down,  dipped  liis  pen  in  ink,  lield  it  poised  over 
the  paper  a  moment,  and  tlien  looked  up  blankly, 
exclaiming,  "  But  I  don't  know  what  to  write  !  " 
He  smiled  at  the  fatuous  ignorance  of  the  man. 
For  himself,  there  could  be  no  such  catastrophe  ; 
he  knew  what  he  was  going  to  write,  and  there 
remained  ahead  of  him  but  the  labor. 

He  wrote.  It  went  very  well  for  a  day  or  two, 
and  then  he  began  to  have  interruptions.  The 
officers,  not  finding  him  in  the  usual  loafing  places 
about  the  post,  sought  him  out  in  his  quarters. 
They  came  with  solicitous  questions  on  their  lips. 
What  was  the  matter,  that  he  was  secluding  him- 
self thus  ?  Was  he  sick  ?  Had  he,  perhaps,  suf- 
fered a  disappointment  ?  Possibly  there  was  a  girl 
in  the  case — there  generally  was  one  or  more — and 
his  heart  was  sore  in  consequence.  They  railed 
at  him  cheerfully,  and  assured  him  that  a  brood- 
ing isolation  would  heal  no  smarts.  The  thing  for 
him  to  do  was  to  get  out  with  the  rest  of  them, 
and  exert  himself  more  than  ever  in  the  pursuit  of 
daily  pleasure. 

He  could  pot  turn  them  away  when  they  came 
thus  friendlily.  It  would  have  been  foolish  to 
lock  the  door  against  them  ;  and  he  could  not  sit 
within,  hear  their  knocks,  and  not  shout  an  invita- 
tion to  enter.  When  they  came  in  they  found  him 
at  the  desk  with  sheets  of  paper,  more  or  less 
written  on,  stre'VMi  about  in  an  affectation  of  liter- 
ary  disorder.      He   would  look   up,    greet   them 


ISJ:  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

pleasantly  by  name,  and  talk  witli  them  as  long  as 
they  remained ;  but  his  eyes  would  keep  wander- 
ing back  to  the  desk  and  the  sheets  of  paper ;  he 
would  finger  the  pen  on  which  ink  was  fast  dry- 
ing, and  they  Avould  understand  from  his  preoccu- 
pation that  he  wished  them  gone.  Their  tongues 
fell  dumb  as  this  fact  intruded  itself  upon  them, 
and  they  looked  about  the  room  uneasily.  Its 
appearance  was  unusual,  and  they  would  some- 
times venture  to  ask  what  he  was  doing. 

"  Oh,  nothing  much,"  he  would  reply.  "  That 
is,  a  little  writing  I  have  been  trying  to  get  off  my 
hands  for  some  time." 

"  Well,  don't  let  us  hinder  you,"  they  would  re- 
join, with  a  suspicion  of  acerbity  in  their  tone. 

Then  he  would  regret  his  discourteous  manner, 
and  try  to  put  himself  right  with  them  again. 
"  Oh,  don't  hurry  away  ;  this  can  wait,  and  I  am 
glad  enough  you  came  in." 

"  How  long  before  you  will  be  done  ?  "  they 
would  inquire,  lingering  with  a  hand  on  the  knob. 

"  Oh,  I  can't  tell  " — casting  a  glance  of  concern 
over  the  papers.  "  A  few  days  yet  before  this  job 
is  out  of  the  way." 

" Perhaps  we  will  drop  in  again  and  catch  }ou 
with  nothing  to  do."  And  so  they  would  betake 
themselves  to  other  scenes. 

Spurbridge  then  turned  to  his  writing  with  a 
troublous  sense  of  moments  squandered  and  fine 
turns  of  expression  lost.      The  fellows  broke  in 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  185 

upon  trains  of  tliouglit  that  he  conjured  up  with 
vast  trouble,  being  unaccustomed  to  the  task,  and 
it  was  only  by  more  labor  that  he  could  get  them 
in  running  order  again.  This  he  conceived  to  be 
a  waste  of  valuable  material,  but  it  was  something 
he  could  not  avoid  without  absolute  discourtesy ; 
and  nothing  was  further  from  his  nature  and  in- 
tentions than  that. 

The  officers  went  their  ways,  talking  of  the 
change  that  had  come  over  Spurbridge.  They 
had  never  suspected  him  of  a  literary  bent,  and 
discussed  the  matter,  turning  it  this  way  and  that ; 
for  the  affair  of  one  was  the  interest  of  all.  Ralph 
said  less  of  it  than  another,  possibly  because  he 
understood  Spurbridge  better  than  the  others. 
"  He's  all  right,"  he  asserted  stoutly  on  several 
occasions,  when  it  was  doubted.  "  It's  a  case  of 
youthful  fever  of  impatience  at  the  slo^mess  of 
garrison  life.  I  suppose  w^e've  all  had  a  touch  of 
it.  It  won't  hurt  him  any  now  to  practise  hand- 
writing." 

Presently  the  ladies  took  to  inquiring  of  one  an- 
other why  Mr.  Spurbridge  was  less  frequent  with 
his  calls  than  formerly.  They  missed  them,  as 
anything  to  break  a  deadly  monotony  is  missed. 
The  officers  told  them  of  his  new  departure,  and 
they  found  a  lively  interest.  It  was  something 
unusual  to  look  upon  an  author  every  night  at 
parade.  When  he  did  make  a  call,  they  asked 
him  about  his  book  —  for  it   Avas  settled  among 


186  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

tliein  that  he  was  at  work  on  one.  This  was  an- 
noying, and  at  the  same  time  a  source  of  gratifi- 
cation. He  was  annoyed  that  it  was  not  a  book, 
that  he  was  trying  for  nothing  higher  than  some 
newspaper  articles,  yet.  He  did  not  tell  them 
this  ;  he  let  them  continue  in  error.  He  was 
glad  to  know  they  were  in  error ;  it  showed  him 
that  Miss  Gerrish  was  holding  the  matter  in  as 
high  esteem  as  he  did,  and  had  not  told  of  it  in 
the  hourly  chats  of  the  garrison  ladies. 

Ralph  was  the  only  one  of  his  comrades  whom 
he  took  into  confidence.  He  had  to  do  this,  for 
in  writing  up  the  trip  there  were  some  features  on 
which  he  had  to  consult  him.  Kal2)li  looked  upon 
his  effort  with  an  air  of  tolerance. 

"Give  it  a  fair  trial,  old  man,"  he  said.  "It 
will  be  a  good  thing  if  j^ou  can  make  it  work." 

"  It's  going  all  right  so  far,"  Spurbridge  assured 
him. 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  but  it's  new  now,  and  novel. 
Wait  till  the  freshness  of  the  impulse  is  gone  ; 
it  carries  you  over  obstacles  now  so  you  don't 
know  they  are  there.  I  like  to  see  you  make  the 
trial,  and  hope  you  may  succeed." 

"  You  seem  to  think  it  a  matter  of  considerable 
doubt,"  replied  Spurbridge,  nettled  at  a  lack  of 
confidence  in  his  strength  of  purpose. 

"  I'm  not  doubting  you  for  a  minute,  my  dear 
fellow,"  Ralph  protested.  "  I'm  speaking  from  ex- 
perience and  observation  only,  and  I'm  only  afraid 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  187 

you  don't  realize  liow  big  a  contract  you  have 
taken.  But  so  long  as  you  succeed,  it  isn't  neces- 
sary you  should  know." 

Whenever  Spurbridge  and  Lydia  met,  which  was 
much  oftener  than  before,  she  asked,  with  evident 
interest,  how  he  Avas  getting  along.  Thus  he  fell 
in  a  way  of  talking  of  his  progress  quite  minutely 
— the  work  of  arranging  incidents  in  proper  se- 
quence, the  interruptions  of  visitors,  the  number 
of  words  he  got  on  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  the  prob- 
able rate  of  postage  per  thousand  words.  She 
suggested  thinner  paper,  but  he  had  already  be- 
gun to  copy  from  the  first  rough  draft,  and  would 
make  no  change  then  ;  on  the  next  article  he 
might.  Then  she  hoped  he  would  not  send  away 
his  article  without  reading  it  to  her.  This  dis- 
closed to  him  an  unanticipated  phase  of  author- 
ship ;  he  had  not  counted  on  reading  his  unpub- 
lished compositions  before  an  audience.  But  al- 
though he  was  anxious  to  know  what  she  thought 
of  it,  he  was  Equally  anxious  not  to  have  the 
opinion  of  the  garrison  at  large.  There  could  be 
no  strength  for  him  in  such  a  union.  It  was  mani- 
festly out  of  the  question  to  have  a  third  party 
present  at  the  readings  thus  established,  and  so  it 
came  about  that  he  and  Lydia  often  sat  ttte-a-ttte 
and  devoted  themselves  to  criticism  upon  the 
work  of  one  of  them: 

He  put  much  labor  into  his  attempt,  wTote  and 
rewrote  with  commendable  energy.     The  amount 


188  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

of  pay  lie  could  hope  to  receive  in  return  rendered 
the  labor  notably  unremunerative ;  but  he  killed  a 
large  amount  of  time  in  the  operation,  and  felt 
well  satisfied.  Money  was  not  the  only  thing  to 
be  considered  in  determining  if  it  was  worth  wdiile. 

One  evening  Spurbridge  called  on  Lydia,  wear- 
ing an  air  of  accomplishment.  "  It  is  done  !  "  he 
announced,  with  complacent  finality, 

"  Already  !  "  she  exclaimed,  delightedly. 

"  Oh,  I  have  been  a  long  time  about  it,"  he 
declared,  modestly.  "  I  suppose  a  professional 
would  have  done  what  I  have  in  half  the  time." 

"  I  think  you  have  done  very  well,"  she  insisted. 
"  I  shall  expect  you  to  improve  with  practice  ;  but 
you  can  find  no  fault  with  yourself  in  what  you 
have  done." 

"  If  I  can't  it  is  probably  because  I  don't  know 
enough,"  he  replied,  whimsically.  "  At  any  rate  I 
have  accomplished  something ;  I  have  finished  an 
account  of  the  trip,  and  I  have  mailed  it  to  a  good 
paper.  If  they  accept  it  I  shall  demand  your  con- 
gratulations, sure  enough." 

She  was  sure  they  would  take  it,  and  based  her 
assurance  on  the  facts  that  it  was  well  written,  was 
a  story  not  often  told  in  print,  and  that  very  little 
was  known  of  the  countr}^  over  which  he  had 
hunted.  She  knew  nothing  of  the  requirements 
of  the  newspaper,  nor  did  Spurbridge  ;  yet  he 
felt  as  Avell  assured  of  victory  as  if  he  had  under- 


ox  THE  OFFENSIVE  189 

stood  newspaper  work  thoroughly.  Aud  he  whis- 
tled gaily  as  he  went  away,  feeling  that  literary 
success  was  a  flower  easily  plucked. 

After  several  days  he  received  word  from  the 
paper  he  had  favored ;  and  he  forthwith  walked 
down  the  line  with  a  noticeable  air  of  elation. 
Ralph  met  him  and  stared  in  sui'prise  at  the  change 
from  constant  preoccupation. 

"  You  look  as  happy  as  a  bridegroom,"  he  said. 
"  What's  the  occasion  of  all  these  smiles  ?  " 

"  They  have  accepted  my  article,"  Spurbridge 
replied,  proudly.  He  drew  from  a  pocket  the  let- 
ter of  information,  and  showed  it  with  a  fine  sense 
of  importance  in  the  new  relation  he  had  formed. 

Ralph  gripped  his  hand  firmly.  "  Good !  Keep 
it  up !  I'll  do  what  I  can  to  help.  At  present  I'm 
going  to  drink  to  and  for  you ;  will  you  come  and 
do  the  same  for  me  ?  " 

"  No,  I  guessy,  not,  thanks.  I  was  just  going 
down  to  the  colonel's." 

"  He  won't  drink.  Literary  success  has  turned 
his  head,"  said  Ralph,  casting  up  his  eyes.  "  Go 
'long  with  you,  and  when  you  get  back  to  earth, 
come  'round  and  let's  have  a  look  at  you." 

He  met  Lydia  with  an  attempt  to  dissemble  his 
joy,  but  she  saw  through  the  thin  disguise,  "  You 
have  news  of  your  article,"  she  said,  with  the  first 
glance. 

In  spite  of  himself  the  corners  of  his  mouth 
would  curl  upward  into  a  smile,  and  his  eyes  shone 


190  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

with  pleasure.  "  You  have  good  news,  too,"  she 
exclaimed.     "  Have  they  taken  it  ?  " 

"  Yes !  "  he  burst  forth,  throwing  the  letter  into 
her  lap.  "  Yes,  they've  taken  it.  There's  what 
they  say." 

"  Well,  I'm  just  as  glad ! "  she  cried,  when  she 
had  read  the  curt  note.  "  I  was  sure  of  it  all  the 
time,  too.  They  will  pay  on  publication,"  she  con- 
tinued, referring  to  the  letter.  "  How  much  do 
you  suppose  you  will  get  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know — haven't  any  idea  ;  "  he  waved 
aside  this  minor  consideration.  "  I  don't  even 
know  whether  they  pay  by  the  column  or  by  the 
real  value  of  the  article." 

"  Some  articles  must  be  worth  more  than  others." 

"  Oh,  of  course.  But  that  isn't  the  main  thing. 
I  have  carried  my  point  in  writing  something  that 
was  accepted.  It  will  be  printed  ;  it  will  be  paid 
for.     That  is  why  I  feel  encouraged  to  keep  on." 

"You  ought  to.  Why,  this  is  your  first  at- 
tempt, and  you  have  succeeded  with  it !  There 
are  so  many  writers  who "  try  and  irj  a  long  time 
before  they  get  into  print  at  all." 

"  I  suspect  they  don't  begin  right,"  he  reflected, 
magnanimously.  "  It  is  their  misfortune,  not  their 
fault,  as  writers.  Now,  /  have  begun  with  a  news- 
paper ;  next,  I  shall  be  in  a  magazine." 

"  Oh,  that  is  very  good,"  she  approved.  "  What 
one  shall  you  try  for  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know — any  of  the  good  ones — the  Ccn- 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  191 

tury,  or  Scribners,  or  Harper s  —  I  really  have  no 
choice.  Any  of  them  will  do,  but  it  has  to  be  one 
of  them ! " 

She  ajoprovecl  his  resolution  and  encoui'aged 
him  to  persevere.  At  the  same  time  she  hinted 
it  might  be  a  good  plan  to  make  haste  a  little 
slowly.  "  But  you  will  send  more  articles  to  the 
ncAvspaper  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Why  should  I  ?  "  he  demanded.  "  I  have  al- 
ways the  newspaper,  now  ;  having  done  that  once, 
I  can  do  it  again  any  time.  But  the  magazines 
are  the  court  of  highest  resort !  There  is  the  place 
to  be  known,  if  you  would  be  known  at  all !  " 

"  Oh,  decidedly,"  she  hastened  to  agree.  "  But 
you  are  so  young,  there  is  plenty  of  time  ;  you 
needn't  be  in  a  hurry.  And  the  more  you  write 
the  more  facility  you  will  get.  I  believe  I  would 
send  a  few  more  articles  to  the  pajDers." 

"  Well,  there  would  be  no  real  harm  in  it,"  he 
admitted,  taking  back  from  her  hand  the  letter  ; 
"  only,  if  my  ideas  are  really  good,  it  is  a  pity  not 
to  sell  them  in  a  better  market." 

He  opened  the  letter  and  ran  it  through  again 
for  the  hundredth  time.  "  Nothing  military  about 
their  style  of  correspondence,  is  there  ?  "  he  com- 
mented, with  a  chuckle. 

"I  hadn't  noticed  especially.  W^hat  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

"  Oh,  there's  no  red  tape,  no  beating  about  the 
bush  in  accordance  with  some  form  issued  before 


192  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

the  war  of  1812,  They  get  right  to  the  i:)oint  in 
the  fewest  possible  words.  That's  progress ! 
That's  business  ! "  He  h)oked  at  it  admiringly, 
and  then  critically.  "They  don't  even  waste  a 
word  for  courtesy,"  he  observed. 

"  I  suppose  you  want  to  make  a  reflection  on  the 
army,  but  I  shan't  admit  it,"  she  said,  charmingly 
combative.  "  The  army  is  my  home,  and  I  won't 
see  it  attacked.  And  I  don't  see  why  they  should 
stop  to  say  the  courteous  thing  about  your  article. 
Accepting  it  is  enough.  That  speaks  louder  than 
many  words." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that,"  he  explained,  annoyed 
at  the  necessity.  "  They  might  have  said  it  would 
please  them  to  have  me  submit  more  articles,  or 
something  of  that  sort.  But  that  wouldn't  have 
been  business,  I  suppose  ;  they  might  have  felt 
bound  by  it  to  pay  me  a  higher  price  than  they 
otherwise  would." 

"  The  price  doesn't  matter,"  she  reminded  him. 
"  We  decided  that  some  pay  was  necessary  as  a 
proof  you  were  not  wasting  your  time  ;  but  the 
amount  of  pay  was  to  cut  no  figure." 

He  looked  at  her  curiously,  as  though  he  had 
drifted  a  long  way  from  that  point  of  view, 
"  That's  so  !  "  he  said.  "  I  had  forgotten  it.  I  was 
thinking,  the  more  pay,  the  more  success.  But 
you're  right.  Pay  puts  the  stamp  of  the  profes- 
sional on  it,  and  I  don't  aspire  to  that,  I  am  con- 
tent to  remain  an  amateur." 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  193 

After  that  Spurbridge  racked  liis  brains  for  sub- 
jects on  which  to  write.  He  described  life  at  a 
frontier  post,  dwelling  on  the  monotony  of  the  ex- 
istence and  its  w^orthlessness  of  aim — merely  killing 
time  in  hope  of  a  to-morrow  that  should  bring  pro- 
motion, increased  pay,  and  a  consequent  livelier  in- 
terest in  life.  He  thought  he  made  a  very  good 
point  in  declaring  such  an  existence  a  continual 
mistake  ;  that  the  livelier  interest  was  more  possi- 
ble to  the  young  lieutenant  than  the  gray  colonel ; 
that  but  an  eflbrt,  an  application  was  needed,  to 
make  it  a  real,  almost  tangible,  thing.  He  had 
himself  in  mind  as  he  Avrote  this  sermon  ;  he  was 
sure  that  now,  with  as  much  occupation  for  his 
leisure  as  he  desired  always  ready,  he  could  form 
a  broader  view  and'  be  more  friendly  tow^ard  army 
life.  He  read  Lydia  what  he  wrote,  consulted  her 
on  every  point,  even  going  out  of  his  way  to  find 
pretexts,  and  gradually  allowed  his  interest  in  this 
new  work  to  overshadow  his  military  duty.  It  was 
whispered  about  the  post  that  he  was  a  successful 
writer,  for  since  he  was  jQjiding  a  market  for  every 
article  he  was  not  so  chary  of  his  confidences ;  and 
he  enjoyed  the  tempered  adulation  that  came  to 
him  from  the  ladies. 

It  happened,  however,  in  the  course  of  the 
weeks,  that  some  of  his  manuscripts  were  returned 
with  curt,  printed  slips  of  regrets.  This  was  a 
blow  to  him,  for  he  had  become  so  elated  by  suc- 
cess as  to  think  himself  almost  invincible.  Hav- 
13 


194  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

ing  begun  with  acceptances,  he  had  supposed  re- 
jections were  not  for  him.  But  he  put  these 
manuscripts  into  fresh  envelopes  and  sent  them  to 
other  papers,  while  he  experienced  a  fine  glow  of 
virtuous  indignation. 

And  now,  good  fortune  deserted  him.  The  man- 
uscripts he  sent  out  a  second  and  a  third  time 
either  came  back  with  curt  refusals,  or  were  ig- 
nored altogether ;  and  he  was  forced  to  the  con- 
clusion that  they  must  have  some  defect,  since  the 
editors  displayed  such  a  unanimity  of  ojoinion  con- 
cerning them.  He  rewrote  a  few,  and  taied  to 
infuse  some  element  that  he  vaguely  felt  was  lack- 
ing— some  force  of  thought,  some  originality  in 
observation.  It  was  of  no  use.  If  all  the  editors 
in  the  coimtry  had  banded  together  to  crush  his 
hopes,  he  could  not  have  been  more  universally 
discouraged ;  and  he  wondered  if  they  did  not 
have  some  system  of  communication  by  Avhicli  a 
manuscript,  once  rejected,  was  thenceforth  doomed 
to  lie  under  the  ban  of  all.  .He  amplified  this  into 
a  semi-belief  that  an  author  who  once  had  suf- 
fered a  rejection  was  thereafter  regarded  with  a 
sort  of  suspicion  that  his  i)roductions  might  not 
be  up  to  par.  For  nothing  of  all  that  he  wrote 
now  met  with  favor. 

Naturally,  being  thus  frowned  upon  by  all  whom 
he  approached,  he  looked  upon  his  articles  with  bit- 
terness, and  regarded  the  work  itself  with  groAving 
distaste.     Time  spent  at  his  desk  was  time  thrown 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  195 

away,  and  might  just  as  well  have  been  employed 
at  cards — better,  so  far  as  his  personal  pleasure  was 
concerned.  He  could  not  write  in  the  face  of  dis- 
couragement, both  at  home  and  abroad.  So  long 
as  his  work  was  appreciated  in  editorial  rooms  he 
did  not  care  much  for  the  chaff  of  officers ;  but 
when  chaff  and  scorn  constituted  his  sole  return, 
he  was  ready  to  throw  down  the  pen.  There  was 
no  one,  he  told  himself  bitterly,  no  one  in  the 
whole  garrison,  who  appreciated  his  effort  in  all  its 
intensity  and  sympathized  with  it.  Most  of  the 
officers  with  their  wives  looked  upon  it  as  an  up- 
start criticism  of  army  life,  and  said  with  sharp 
irony  that  they  were  sorry  if  what  was  good  enough 
for  them  was  not  also  good  enough  for  him.  Ealph 
did  not  care  for  that  kind  of  labor,  did  not  sym- 
pathize with  the  work  itself.  Miss  Gerrish  was 
the  only  one  who  did  sympathize,  and  she,  Spur- 
bridge  weakly  admitted  to  himself,  had  about 
reached  the  limit  of  her  usefulness.  When  he  be- 
gan writing  they  were  on  equal  terms,  so  far  as 
knowledge  of  the  undertaking  was  concerned  ;  but 
now,  with  all  his  experience,  he  was  ahead  of  her. 
And  he  was  at  a  loss  how  to  proceed.  He  did 
not  want  to  be  pushed  from  behind ;  he  wanted 
someone  to  go  before  and  lead.  He  was  no  ex- 
plorer. But  among  all  the  officers  and  their  fami- 
lies there  was  no  one  fitted  to  give  him  assistance. 
The  work  he  had  undertaken  loomed  up  like  an 
impregnable  fortress  ;  he  had  failed  of  carrying  it 


196  ON   THE   OFFENSIVE 

by  assault,  and  he  had  no  heart  to  run  the  dangers 
of  disappointment  by  siege.  He  felt  very  weak, 
hopeless,  and  dejected.  And  he  was  reminded 
that  Ralph  had  said  he  did  not  appreciate  the  dif- 
ficulties of  his  undertaking. 

The  officers  had  got  so  now  that  they  did  not 
drop  in  to  see  him  very  often  ;  if  he  wanted  to  see 
them  he  had  to  go  where  they  were.  Even  Ralph 
followed  the  general  drift,  and  seldom  came  near 
his  quarters.  The  garrison  seemed  to  harbor  a 
feeling  that  he  had  set  himself  apart  from  them, 
was  forming  new  ties  and  interests  in  which  they 
had  no  share,  no  part.  Spurbridge  had  not  antici- 
pated this  when  he  thought  of  writing ;  it  should 
have  been  a  matter  of  self-improvement,  perhaps 
of  wide  advantage.  Now,  he  found  this  course 
was  resulting  chiefly  in  alienating  the  regard  of 
those  with  whom  he  was  thrown  every  day.  They 
were  content  to  be  known  as  soldiers,  asked  no 
greater  earthly  glory  than  this  ;  it  was  like  treason 
in  their  eyes  for  one  of  their  number  to  think  this 
insufficient.  "  Once  a  soldier,  always  a  soldier," 
they  said,  wdienever  they  found  it  necessary  to 
speak  of  it  at  all.  The  platitude  served  its  pur- 
pose with  them.  All  interests  but  soldiering  were 
foreign  and  unessential  to  their  scheme. 

One  evening  Spurbridge  sought  Ralph's  quar- 
ters, find  was  glad  to  find  Ralph  there  alone.  He 
was   moody,    irritable,    perplexed.      He    wanted 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  197 

things  explained  to  him.  He  was  afraid  he  had 
made  a  mistake  somewhere,  but  he  did  not  know 
whether  it  was  in  trying  to  be  an  officer  and  an 
author,  or  in  entering  the  army  at  all.  Sometimes 
he  thought  that  if  he  had  kept  clear  of  it  and  had 
cultivated  his  talent  for  the  pen,  he  would  have 
been  happier,  more  contented,  and  quite  as  well 
off ;  but  he  was  still  intent  on  the  combination,  if 
it  could  be  made. 

He  nodded  to  Ealph  as  he  came  in,  and  threw 
himself  into  a  big  chair.  Ralph  humored  his  mood, 
and  merely  nodded  at  him.  The  boy  looked  ha- 
rassed and  wretched. 

"  How  is  our  young  Dickens  to-night  ?  "  Ealph 
asked  at  length,  as  Spurbridge  showed  no  signs  of 
speaking. 

"Don't!"  Spurbridge  howled  at  him.  "Don't 
Dickens  me  !     I'm  not  doing  that  pose  just  now." 

Ealph  pulled  his  mustache  thoughtfully.  "I 
see,"  he  said,  a  fine  compassion  stirring  his  soul. 
"  It  is  considerable  of  a  strain,  isn't  it  ?  What 
would  you  say  to  " — he  set  out  a  couple  of  glasses 
and  a  decanter — "  to  a  touch  of  this  ?  " 

Spurbridge  displayed  the  faintest  interest. 
"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  The  straight  old  army  tipple,"  replied  Ealph, 
firmly.  "  I  reckon  you  don't  have  to  be  told  yet 
what  that  is?  " 

Spurbridge  relaxed  the  intensity  of  his  gloom, 
and  even  laughed  a  little.     "  No,  I  havfen't  forgot- 


198  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

ten,"  lie  said,  pouring  out  a  couple  of  fingers. 
"  I'll  just  renew  my  allegiance  herewith. " 

"  This  is  something  like  your  old  sweet  self,"  re- 
marked Ealph,  as  they  drank.  "  It  augurs  well  for 
a  season  of  sociable  converse.  What's  first  on  the 
boards  ?  " 

"  It  occurs  to  me  first,"  replied  Spurbridge, 
"  that  you  are  nothing  if  not  flippant.  Don't  you 
intend  ever  to  grow  up  ?  " 

"Not  while  I  stay  in  the  army,  from  care  and 
sorrow  free,"  returned  Ralph,  jovially.  "Age 
isn't  a  matter  of  years — witness  the  gay  old  dogs 
all  about  you,  wearing  shoulder-straps  ;  the  bigger 
the  strap,  the  younger  the  dog — get  to  be  regular 
pups  after  a  while.  The  army  is  the  cup  that 
always  cheers,  and  sometimes  inebriates ;  it's  the 
fountain  of  perpetual  youth — the  fire  that  never 
dies — the  quintessence  of  a  happy  life " 

"  Anything  else  ?  Don't  mind  mixing  your 
metaphors,  Ralph.  I'd  like  to  know  all  there  is 
in  it." 

"  Oh,  you're  getting  so  beastly  critical  nowa- 
days," Ralph  deplored,  "  giving  yourself  such  liter- 
ary airs,  that  a  common  scrub  stands  no  chance 
with  you.  Still,  I  wanted  to  give  you  a  little 
dig — rub  it  into  you  about  the  army,  you  know." 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  Spurbridge,  easily.  "I 
have  my  private  opinion  as  to  the  army — perhaps 
you  would  like  to  have  me  put  it  in  metaphor  for 
you  ?  " 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  199 

"Not  necessary,  old  man,"  Ralph  rejoined,  cor- 
dially. "  I  know  what  it  is — or  was,  when  you 
undertook  to  turn  author.  Otherwise  you  would 
never  have  tried  it." 

"  Wliat  was  it  ? "  demanded  Spurbridge,  as  a 
test. 

"Well,  you  thought  there  wasn't  much  to  an 
officer's  life,  now  didn't  you?  Didn't  it  seem  to 
you  like  nothing  at  all — nothing,  with  black  trim- 
ming round  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Spurbridge.  "  The  trimmings  are 
gaudy  enough.  But  the  life  itself  is  open  to  ob- 
jection on  the  ground  of  its  nothingness.  That's 
what  I  think." 

"  Explain— detail,"  Ralph  commanded,  stretch- 
ing out  his  legs  and  enjoying  a  cigar.  "You'll 
feel  better  for  telling  me  all  you  hai^e  against  it." 

Spurbridge  considered  a  moment.  "  I  hardly 
know  what  you  expect  me  to  say,"  he  demurred. 
"  It's  all  right,  the  army,  of  course ;  only,  it  isn't 
what  I  expected,  somehow.  Guess  I've  been  dis- 
appointed." He  went  on,  feeling  about  for  expres- 
sions that  should  suit  his  views.  His  objections 
had  never  been  formulated,  but  had  existed  in  a 
nebulous  way,  causing  him  irritation  and  dis- 
content. 

"  I  didn't  know  anything  about  the  army  before 
I  went  to  the  Academy,"  he  continued,  softly. 
"  I  expected  to  find  officers  generally  using  their 
spare  time  in  study  or  research  of  some  kind.     I 


200  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

tlioiiglit  it  would  be  the  few  incorrigible  exceptions 
who  loafed  along  and  gave  rise  to  current  stories 
about  poker  playing  and  whiskey  drinking," 

"Well,  you've  been  mistaken,  haven't  you?"  said 
Ralph.  "  Your  e3'es  have  been  opened  to  the  fact 
that  it's  the  many  wlio  loaf  and  the  few  who  try 
to  do  anything.  It's  true  enough — shan't  try  to 
palliate  it — don't  think  it's  worth  while.  "We  do 
loaf  and  loaf — and  booze  and  booze — and  gamble 
and  gamble — that  is  to  say,  I  do.  Don't  know  as 
I  care  to  set  myself  up  as  a  fair  sample,  though." 

"Ah,  you're  exaggerating  your  own  case,"  Spur- 
bridge  remonstrated.  "You're  not  so  black  as 
you'd  be  making  out ;  those  shelves  of  books  give 
you  the  lie  now.  Yes,  you  are  a  fair  sample," 
he  continued;  "at  least,  so  far  as  I  have  had  a 
chance  of  judging." 

Ralph  seemed  to  acquiesce,  and  he  Avent  on  : 

"  Yes,  I  was  mistaken,  but  when  I  found  it  out 
I  wouldn't  let  it  afiect  my  intentions.  I  loafed 
till  I  got  all  over  the  feeling  I  came  out  of  West 
Point  with — that  work  was  to  be  abhorred  and 
deadbeated,  simply  because  I  was  surfeited  with 
it — and  then  I  began  to  write." 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

"  Well,  it  doesn't  work  any  more ;  success  is 
lacking.  At  West  Point  we  worked  hard  to  gradu- 
ate, because  then  we  would  get  into  the  army. 
Our  ambition  centred  in  that,  and  after  we  got 
there  we  were  soing  to  sit  down  and  never  do 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  201 

another  thing  all  our  days.  But  that  was  short- 
sighted. After  working  so  hard  a  fellow  can't  re- 
nounce all  effort  at  once.  And  I  had  to  have  a 
new  ambition,  since  the  old  one  was— not  satis- 
fied, but  brought  to  an  end.  I  suppose  a  proper 
ambition  should  occupy  all  one's  life,  and  yet  fail 
of  accomplishment.  And  so  I  tried  to  write,  and 
I  have  given  it  a  good,  thorough  trial ;  but  it  has 
been  uphill  work,  and  is  getting  more  so." 

"  Why  ?  "  He  knew,  but  he  wanted  Spurbridge 
to  set  forth  his  complaint  in  his  own  words. 

"  Because  it  takes  the  heart  all  out  of  a  fellow 
to  have  the  dirt  cave  in  on  him  as  fast  as  he  digs," 
Spurbridge  replied.  "  And  I  feel  as  if  the  entire 
regiment  had  become  hostile  since  I  have  been 
trying  to  write.  A\Tiy  is  it?  Do  they  object? 
Why  should  they  ?  It  doesn't  interfere  with  them, 
nor  with  my  duty." 

"Is  that  all?" 

"  That's  all,  I  should  hope — except  that  I  am 
tempted  to  think  it  would  have  been  better  for  me 
to  resign  when  I  graduated  and  never  come  near 
the  army." 

"Oh,  don't  be  doing  the  act  of  Lot's  wife," 
Ealph  interrupted,  impatiently.  "Let  the  past 
alone ;  you  can't  better  it  by  post  mortems.  Be 
enough  of  a  fatalist  to  say,  '  What  is,  is,  and  what 
will  be,  will,'  and  remain  calm  in  the  knowledge  of 
it." 

Spurbridge  wriggled  in  his  chair,  and  gro\Aied 


202  ON  tub:  offensive 

inarticulately.     Balpli  hastened  to  speak  upon  the 
other  side, 

"  There  are  mighty  few  men  in  the  army  who 
are  not  satisfied  with  it — outwardly.  Sometimes  a 
a  man  will  take  up  some  occupation  in  connection 
with  it,  but  the  results  are  not  worth  consider- 
ing. I  knew  an  officer  who  got  interested  in 
photography  and  spent  far  more  than  he  could 
afford — remembering  the  price  of  beer  in  the  Ter- 
ritory— on  plates  and  films  and  lenses  and  what 
all.  He  never  got  a  good  picture  of  anything  ;  he 
was  the  worst  kind  of  an  amateur.  By  and  by  he 
gave  it  up.  Another  man  invented  a  knapsack 
harness  and  offered  it  to  the  Government.  After 
many  years  he  found  letter-carriers  in  some  cities 
equipped  with  it  on  their  pouches.  He  had  to  sue 
the  Government  before  he  got  an}- thing,  and  then 
he  barely  paid  the  attorney's  fees.  There  is  dis- 
couragement on  every  hand  for  every  attempt  to 
get  out  of  the  official  rut.  I  knew  another  officer 
— a  surgeon — who  spent  his  time  wandering  about 
the  post  collecting  bugs.  He  knew  all  about  bugs, 
but  he  had  no  interest  in  his  regular  work.  After 
a  time  he  resigned,  and  he  has  since  written  some 
standard  books  on  entomology.  But  he  would 
never  have  done  it  had  he  stayed  in  the  service — 
never,  while  there  was  the  least  trace  of  the  ama- 
teur about  him.  No  one  can  do  anything  as  an 
amateur  anyway.  That's  why  the  State  militia, 
with  the  best  intentions  in  the  world,  never  get  to 


Oy  THE  OFFENSIVE  203 

be  as  efficient  as  regular  troops.  They  are  think- 
ing of  the  figure  they  cut  in  uniform,  rather  than 
of  what  the  uniform  stands  for.  They  are  not  pro- 
fessional soldiers — only  amateurs." 

"  That  may  be  the  army  belief,"  Spurbridge 
said,  controversially ;  "  but  the  National  Guard 
will  never  admit  it." 

"  Professional  jealousy,  that's  all.  It's  the  only 
point  on  which  they  are  not  amateurs,"  replied 
Halph,  laughing  cynically. 

Spurbridge  dropped  that  question.  "  One  would 
think  there  was  plenty  of  time  in  which  an  officer 
could  do  great  works,"  said  he. 

"Yes,  there's  time  enough,  if  that's  the  only 
consideration,"  Ealph  replied.  He  stoi3ped  while 
he  struck  a  match  and  lit  a  fresh  cigar.  He  of- 
fered the  box  to  Spurbridge.  "  Have  another  ? 
No  ?  All  right."  He  settled  himself  for  comfort. 
"  Has  it  struck  you  this  is  a  great  accomplishment 
— to  be  able  to  recline  idly  by  the  half-day,  smok- 
ing and  reading,  and  occasionally  taking  a  drink  ? 
You  really  enjoy  life,  then,"  he  di'awled,  regretting 
the  effiDrt  of  speech. 

"  Oh,  great  thing,  great,"  said  Spurbridge,  scorn- 
fully.    "  They  have  it  down  fine  in  the  army." 

"  We — not  they,  old  man,"  corrected  Ealph. 

Spurbridge  looked  stubborn.  "  What's  that 
other  consideration  you  were  about  to  spring  on 
me  ?  "  he  asked. 

"I  had  two  of  them,  dear  boy,"  Ralph  replied, 


204  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

nonchalantly.  "  One  is  that  there's  time  in  plenty, 
but  no  mental  chance.  The  army  takes  all  one's 
mind,  if  not  all  one's  time ;  whiskey  and  poker  are 
really  intellectual  pursuits,  you  know.  And  the 
details  of  drill  and  of  discipline,  of  social  require- 
ments and  of  official  regulations — you  can't  divorce 
yourself  from  those  in  the  smallest  degree,  and  re- 
main as  good  and  efficient  a  soldier  as  you  were 
before.  What's  that  old  saw  about  one  man  and 
two  masters  ?  He  was  advised  to  renounce  one  of 
them,  wasn't  he  ?  " 

"  So^nething  to  that  effect ;  you  have  the  sub- 
stance of  it  yet." 

"  Much  thanks ;  was  sure  you  hadn't  forgotten. 
But  my  other  point.  A  man  might  have  all  the 
time  and  all  the  mind  necessary,  and  yet  fail  of 
doing  anything  as  a  side  issue  in  the  army,  because 
the  hostile  attitude  you  complain  of  would  be  cre- 
ated against  him — or  he  would  create  it  against 
himself — as  soon  as  ever  he  tried  the  issue.  In 
the  army  a  man  has  a  life  position  and  life  pay,  but 
the  Government  does  not  provide  for  him  that  he 
may  indulge  in  experiments ;  it  may  be  a  generous 
Government,  but  it's  too  selfish  for  that.  Well, 
there's  a  sentiment  in  the  army  that  when  a  man 
does  this  thing,  he  takes  an  unfair  advantage  of 
the  trust  reposed  in  him  by  the  Government.  His 
action  is  hardly  compatible  with  the  honor  of  an 
officer.  Of  course  you  never  had  a  notion  of  this, 
or  you  wouldn't  have  gone  in  for  it  yourself,"  he 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  205 

hastened  to  add  ijacifically,  as  Spurbridge  gave  in- 
dications of  a  violent  outbui'st.  "  It's  all  right  for 
a  man  to  seek  some  employment  that  will  help 
him  through  the  day— it's  all  right  so  long  as  he 
will  continue  at  it  in  just  that  spirit,  regard  it  sim- 
ply as  a  leisure  hour  affair.  The  trouble  always  is 
that  a  man  can't  keep  it  there  ;  the  musical  fellow 
disdains  to  be  a  fiddler,  but  wants  to  shine  as  a 
violinist.  If  a  man  cares  enough  for  an  employ- 
ment to  take  it  up  in  the  face  of  his  comrades  who 
are  already  inured  to  leisure,  it  will  grow  upon  him 
till  he  is  regarded  as  a  worthless  ofiicer.  He  gets 
past  the  amateur  stage,  and  exalts  his  hobby  to 
the  rank  of  the  profession  that  brings  him  his 
livelihood.  That  causes  a  clash,  and  the  officer 
is  likely  to  come  out  of  it  in  a  damaged  condi- 
tion." He  stopped  as  though  he  had  made  his 
point,  and  rested  his  case. 

"  That  proves  nothing  against  the  officer  as  a 
man,"  Spurbridge  insisted.  "  His  moral  instinct 
is  not  at  fault  because  his  delight  in  some  other 
employment  outweighs  his  pocket  judgment.  It 
might  argue  him  more  of  a  man  than  his  fellows." 

"  Not  at  all.  Morally  he  may  be  all  right,  but 
he  is  not  more  of  a  man ;  he  is  less — weaker.  The 
others  remain  bound  hand  and  foot  by  the  oath 
they  have  taken  to  serve  the  country  ;  he  is  carried 
away  by  his  personal  desires.  Do  you  think  con- 
stancy counts  for  nothing  ?  I  tell  you  it's  the  first 
principle  of  the  service  ! " 


206  O.Y  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  A  man  had  better  be  true  to  himself  than  to 
the  finest  government  that  ever  existed,"  returned 
Spurbridge.  He  felt  that  he  had  been  put  on  the 
defensive  against  unexpected  attacks. 

"  Oh,  yes."  Ralph  flicked  the  ash  from  his  cigar 
with  his  little  finger,  casting  it  mto  the  grate  with 
the  same  motion.  There  was  a  suggestion  of  mere 
tolerance  in  the  act.  "  Of  course,  a  man  may 
make  mistakes  and  be  no  worse  a  man  for  it. 
And  if  he  enters  the  army  and  then  finds  his  inter- 
est in  the  service  isn't  what  it  should  be — why,  it 
is  no  more  than  unfortunate.  It  isn't  criminal. 
His  crime  consists  in  busying  himself  with  his  own 
concerns,  and  yet  receiving  the  Government  money. 
There's  no  penalty  for  it  in  law ;  we  have  to  take 
the  matter  into  our  o^\n  hands — make  a  moral 
lynch  law  to  fit  the  case." 

"AVell,  I  call  it  a  case  of  hasty  judgment,"  said 
Spurbridge,  indignantly.  "Men  who  have  under- 
gone no  temptations  are  not  fitted  to  judge  men 
who  have."  He  did  not  yet  know  even  the  little 
world  of  the  army  in  which  he  lived. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Ralph;  "you're 
mistaken,  Spurbridge,  if  you  think  constancy  a 
very  cheap  jewel.  There  is  not  a  commission  in 
force  to-day — not  a  commission  in  our  army — 
that  hasn't  been  the  subject  to  its  possessor  of 
enough  mental  anguish  to  turn  his  hair  gray ! " 
He  paused  impressively ;  Spurbridge  seemed  not 
to  comprehend  him.     He  went  on  : 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  207 

"  Why,  do  you  think  you  are  the  only  officer  who 
ever  tired  of  garrison  dulness  and  sought  relief  by 
unauthorized  channels?  You're  not.  You  are 
only  a  man,  like  the  rest  of  us.  Every  officer  has 
known  that  same  feeling.  Every  officer  has  ques- 
tioned himself  as  to  the  purpose  of  his  earthly 
existence — whether  to  stay  in  the  army,  or  to  get 
out  and  follow  some  other  profession.  Every 
officer  has  felt  the  utter  emptiness  of  garrison 
days,  and  has  admitted  with  bitterness  of  spirit 
that  garrison  days  would  make  up  most  of  his 
life.  Is  that  a  pleasant  prospect?  You  know  for 
yourself.  Why,  the  history  of  the  army  is  not  a 
history  of  battles  lost  and  won ;  it  is  a  record  of 
recurring  despair,  gnashing  of  teeth,  and  futile  en- 
deavors to  break  its  monotony  by  the  introduction 
of  something  from  civil  life.  It  can't  be  done  !  A 
painter  may  also  be  a  writer,  and  a  merchant  may 
delight  in  philosophical  lectures ;  but  the  army 
has  kinship  with  nothing !  It  is  for  and  to  itself 
alone ;  it  demands  all  your  life  and  thought ;  and 
you  may  as  well  recognize  it,  and  make  your  oath 
of  service  mean  something  to  you."  Ralph  paused, 
and  observed  Spurbridge  narrowly.  "Man  alive  !  " 
said  he,  presently,  "I'm  not  firing  platitudes  at 
you.  I've  been  through  the  mill  myself,  and  I'm 
telling  you  of  my  own  experience  !  " 

Spurbridge  looked  up,  smiling  faintly.  "That 
makes  it  a  little  better,"  he  said.  "  I'm  glad  I'm 
not  the  only  man  to  make  an  ass  of  himself.     Still, 


208  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

if   I   remember,  you   rather    encouraged    my   at- 
tempt." 

"Yes,"  Ralph  admitted.  "  I  wanted  you  to  try 
it.  You  might  make  worse  mistakes  than  that. 
For  instance,  if  you  got  reckless  in  the  strain  of 
idleness  and  silence,  and  went  to  the  demnition 
doggies  at  a  hand  gallop  like  some  of  your  ac- 
quaintances are  doing,  instead  of  making  your 
dogward  progress  commensurate  with  the  length 
of  your  service.  If  you  had  kept  this  thing  subor- 
dinate, 3'ou  would  have  been  all  right ;  but  it  has 
run  away  with  you,  and  you  stand  in  the  pickle  I 
have  indicated.  But  you  are  not  so  badly  off; 
it's  easier  to  get  away  from  than  the  dogs  are." 

Spurbridge  made  no  answer.  He  was  thinking 
that  the  middle  course,  as  outlined  by  Ralph,  was 
hard  to  follow.  He  did  not  want  to  write  if  he 
must  curb  his  interest ;  that  would  have  barred 
good  work  from  the  start.  And  he  felt  a  certain 
freedom  of  action  when  he  had  hold  of  a  pen  that 
taught  him  reliance  upon  it. 

Ralph  got  a  book  from  one  of  the  shelves  at 
hand.  "Here's  a  bit  of  verse  I'm  going  to  read 
you,"  he  said.  "There  may  be  a  degree  of  appli- 
cation in  it."  He  read  from  "  The  Old  Man's  An- 
nual : " 

'"What  is  tliis? 

A  Life,  my  son, 

Fleeting  as  the  momeuts  run ; 

Something  in  each  one  of  us, 

Belonging  unto  none  of  us ; 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  209 

Something  "we  can  not  explain, 
Holding  less  of  joy  than  pain  ; 

Treat  it  as  an  outward  show — 

Live  it,  son — and  let  it  go.' 

That's  all,"  lie  concluded  abruptl}^  closing  the 
book.  "Make  an  'outward  show'  of  it  —  don't 
take  it  so  seriously.  You  don't  know  anything 
about  it,  and  perhaps  you're  making  a  mistake. 
It  may  be  just  a  joke  of  nature's.  '  Live  it,  and 
let  it  go.'  God  knows  it  isn't  worth  making  such 
a  pother  about.  The  grass  of  the  field  that  to-day 
is,  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven,  you  know." 

"Perhaps  I  know  more  about  my  life  here  and 
hereafter  than  I  do  about  soldiering,"  said  Spui- 
bridge,  with  a  confidence  that  surprised  Ralph. 
He  looked  at  the  young  fellow  a  moment,  fingering 
the  leaves  of  his  book  with  an  itching  desire. 
"Oh,  yes,"  he  said  at  last,  wearily.  " I  had  some- 
thing more  here  I  was  going  to  read,  but  it  isn't 
worth  while."  He  paused  again.  "  You're  a  good 
boy,  Spurbridge,"  he  said,  finally.  "You  haven't 
got  away  from  your  early  training  yet." 

"No,  I  hope  not,"  said  Spurbridge,  sturdily, 
overlooking  the  reference  to  his  tender  years. 

"  No.  Well,  that's  right.  I  won't  read  you  any 
more."  And  Ralph  pitched  the  book  back  among 
the  others. 

Then   they   sat   silent   for  a   little    time,    until 
Ralph  took  up  the  conversation  again.     "  You've 
seen  only  one  side  of  soldiering  yet." 
U 


210  ON  THE   OFFENSIVE    * 

The  reference  to  early  training  had  sent  Spur- 
bridge  into  a  gentle  re  very  of  his  home  and  all  the 
associations  of  place  and  person.  He  roused  him- 
self hurriedly.  "  What's  that  ?  No,  only  the  gar- 
rison and  drill  side." 

"  Then  you  can't  tell  what  it  is  like  at  all," 
Ralph  assured  him.  "Nobody  will  deny  that  this 
side  of  it  is  dull  enough  to  make  anyone  disgusted 
with  the  business ;  but  when  you  've  been  out  in 
the  field  a  few  times  and  seen  what  it's  all  for, 
it  won't  seem  so  useless  to  you.  You'll  take  a 
better  interest  in  it.  You  know  it's  all  right  now, 
theoretically ;  but  a  turn  in  the  field  will  go  far  to- 
ward making  you  contented." 

Spurbridge  pounded  the  arm  of  the  chair 
fiercely.  "  That's  what  I  want !  "  he  declared,  "  1 
do  want  to  see  a  little  service — no  skirmish  camp, 
but  the  real  thing !  Well,  there's  precious  little 
chance,  these  days,"  he  concluded,  bitterly. 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  "  Ralph  demanded. 
"  Do  you  know  what's  going  on  ?  " 

"I  didn't  know  anything  was,"  Spurbridge  con- 
fessed.    "  Do  you  mean  to  say  there's  any  chance  ?  " 

Ralph  regarded  him  with  deep  dissatisfaction. 
"  That's  what  you  get  by  sitting  all  day  before  a 
sheet  of  paper,"  said  he.  "  Why  aren't  you  out, 
hustling  about  with  the  fellows  and  learning  what's 
in  the  wind?  Those  Indians  are  acting  mighty 
suspicious  up  'round  the  Agency,"  he  explained. 
*'  The  C.  O.'s  onto  'em,  and  there's  a  good  chance 


»       O.V  THE  OFFENSIVE  211 

of  a  couple  of  companies  being  sent  up  there  to 
overawe  them,  if  notliing  more." 

Spurbridge  brightened  np  wonderfully  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  became  disconsolate  once  more. 
"Mvich  good  that  will  do  me,"  he  grumbled.  "My 
company  would  never  be  sent  unless  the  whole 
force  was  ordered  out,  and  of  coiu'se  no  one  would 
transfer  with  me." 

"  There  you  are  again ! "  roared  Ralph,  indig- 
nantl}^  "  You  don't  even  know  that  the  next 
companies  on  the  roster  for  field  service  are  yours 
and  mine  !  Why,  man,  we're  the  salt  of  the 
earth ! " 

Spurbridge  was  overwhelmed  to  find  how  little 
account  he  had  taken  of  military  affairs.  He  re- 
pented with  much  contrition,  and  swore  to  be 
ready  to  march  at  a  moment's  notice. 

"  Well,  see  that  you  are,"  Ralph  cautioned  him 
as  he  rose  to  take  his  leave.  "  We'll  have  a  chance 
to  stretch  our  legs,  even  if  we  don't  exchange  com- 
pliments with  the  gentlemen  of  the  red  counte- 
nance. You  want  to  have  a  good  pair  of  marching 
shoes  properly  broken  in — and  woollen  socks — 
and  soap — why,  you're  a  mere  babe  at  soldiering  ! 
Never  mind !  I'll  see  to  it  that  you  don't  make 
any  breaks  this  time." 

Ralph  called  after  him  from  the  door  as  he  went 
up  the  line,  as  though  something  of  importance 
had  been  forgotten.  Spurbridge  halted,  and  Ralph 
stepped  out  to  him. 


212  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE     * 

"Do  you  know  that  fellow  Bool,  who  killed 
Gavin,  has  broken  jail  ?  "  he  asked. 

Spurbridge  beat  his  fists  upon  his  head  in  im- 
patience with  himself.  "  No,  I  didn't  know  that ! 
What  next  ?  " 

"  Nothing — only,  I'm  rather  glad  he  got  away. 
He  made  a  clean  esca23e,  and  they  have  no  trace 
of  him." 

Spurbridge  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  "  I  can't 
imagine  why  you  should  be  glad — you  an  officer, 
and  the  murdered  man  right  out  of  the  command." 

Ralph  gave  an  uneasy  cough.  "You  don't? 
But  you  see,  his  trial  wouldn't  have  amounted  to 
anything.  He  wouldn't  have  been  convicted. 
You  can't  get  a  jury  out  here  to  hang  a  man  for 
killing  a  soldier.  Now  there  won't  be  any  trial, 
and  the  matter  will  drop.  Bool  will  meet  a  man 
some  day  who  will  get  in  on  him — so  the  end  will 
be  the  same.  Some  murders  are  justifiable,  even 
if  they  are  not  legal.  And — I'm  rather  glad  on 
personal  grounds,  too." 

"  Yes  ?  "  asked  Spurbridge,  not  understanding 
him. 

"  Yes."  Ralph  hesitated,  and  dug  up  the  gravel 
with  the  heel  of  his  boot.  "  I  might  have  figured 
in  court  if  the  thing  had  gone  to  trial;  I  hap- 
pened to  be  there  when  the  row  came  off." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  know  that." 

"  Yes — my  bad  luck.  I've  been  in  there  fifty 
times,  and  never  had  a  thing  happen  before.     I 


'      ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  213 

hadn't  said  anj^tliing  about  this  to  anyone,"  he 
added. 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  said  Spnrbridge,  promptly. 

"  I'm  rather  glad  to  tell  yon  now." 

"  Oh,  I'll  observe  your  confidence.  And  we'll 
hope  that  if  there  is  an  outbreak,  he  may  be  the 
first  victim." 

"  I  guess  I'll  have  to  stay  with  you  on  that," 
replied  Kalph. 


IX 


Trouble  had  been  brewing  at  the  Agency  for 
months,  and  the  more  observing  officers  had 
Avatched  its  progress  with  apprehension.  It  was 
the  old  story  of  dishonesty  that  has  so  character- 
ized dealing  wdth  the  Indians  that  it  seems  futile 
to  expect  anything  else.  Ralph,  whom  enthusi- 
asts declared  to  be  a  better  officer  drunk  than  some 
others  were  sober,  had  been  sent  there  to  wit- 
ness an  issue  of  annuity  goods  ;  and  he  came  away 
with  the  fixed  conviction  that  the  Indian  had  no 
rights  that  a  trader  was  bound  to  respect.  He 
made  a  report  intended  to  convey  this  belief,  and 
went  so  far  as  to  recount  certain  charges  he  was 
minded  to  prefer ;  but  it  was  impossible  to  sub- 
stantiate them,  owing  to  the  care  that  had  been 
taken  to  place  liquor  in  his  vicinity  during  the 
issue,  so  nothing  came  of  it. 

Colonel  Gerrish  received  Ralph's  report  of  the 
dissatisfaction  of  the  Indians  thoughtfully ;  and 
thereafter  he  was  more  than  ever  attentive  to  the 
theoretical  field  work  of  his  command.  He  accus- 
tomed the  men  to  considerable  marches,  and  his 
inspections  of  equipment  were  notable   for  their 


ox  THE  OFFENSIVE  215 

severity.  The  camp  equipage  was  kept  up  to  tlie 
requirements  for  field  service,  and  the  garrison, 
without  knowing  it,  was  in  constant  readiness  for 
an  emergency  call. 

There  was  but  one  thing  the  Indian  could  do 
when  his  wrongs  became  unbearable  ;  he  could  go 
on  the  warpath,  and  be  whipped  again  into  sub- 
mission. That  was  not  always  the  excuse  for  an 
outbreak — sometimes  there  was  none  ;  for  the  In- 
dian takes  delight  in  that  which  the  civilized  man 
beholds  with  horror.  But  this  time  the  outbreak 
that  threatened  was  clearly  traceable  to  the  cupid- 
ity of  the  traders. 

The  things  that  an  Indian  needs  are  two — food 
against  his  hunger,  and  clothing  against  his  naked- 
ness ;  and  he  who  goes  about  to  cheat  him  will 
succeed  on  one  or  both  of  these  lines.  It  may  be 
that  a  wagon  will  be  driven  to  the  distributing 
house  with  a  load  of  blankets.  They  are  unloaded, 
receipt  given,  delivery  vouched  for.  Then  they 
may  be  rolled  out  through  the  back  door,  re-loaded 
on  the  wagon,  and  taken  away  to  do  duty  again 
and  again ;  and  the  Indian  goes  unclothed,  he  suf- 
fers from  cold,  and  his  rage  smoulders.  Or  it  may 
be  that  the  beef  contractor,  driving  in  a  herd,  will 
have  in  it  two  or  three  heavy  creatures,  while  the 
others  Avill  be  gaunt  and  small,  with  a  prejjonder- 
ance  of  bone  over  flesh.  The  large  beeves  will  be 
driven  upon  the  scales,  their  weight  taken  as  the 
average  of  the  herd,  issue  made  on  this  basis,  and 


21G  OX  THE  OFFENSIVE 

then  they  will  be  taken  away  to  do  duty  again  and 
again  ;  and  the  Indian  is  unfed,  he  is  hungry,  and 
his  rage  smoulders.  By  and  by  he  ceases  dwelling 
on  his  wrongs,  and  springs  into  action.  That  is 
not  so  bad.  Even  to  civilized  man,  sudden  death, 
from  which  he  prays  to  be  delivered,  is  better  than 
freezing  and  starving.  But  the  Indian  is  not  often 
killed ;  he  is  caught  alive  and  herded  back  to  the 
reservation,  there  to  undergo  the  process  again  and 
again.  It  is  a  pity  that  traders  and  contractors  so 
seldom  gather  the  fruit  of  their  deeds  ;  the  army 
is  the  reaper  in  this  case,  reaping  faithfully  where 
it  has  not  sown. 

At  the  Agency  upon  which  the  attention  of  Col- 
onel Gerrish  was  so  anxiously  turned,  the  Indians 
were  bomitifully  supplied  with  but  one  commodity 
— ammunition.  Tlie}^  received  a  certain  allowance 
for  the  spring  hunt,  which  should  supplement  their 
government  supplies.  But  the  buffalo  were  gone, 
and  other  large  game  was  scarce.  One  would  not 
have  thought  they  had  need  of  such  quantities  of 
ammunition  as  they  applied  for.  Yet  they  got  it 
upon  application.  When  they  exceeded  the  allow- 
ance, they  bought  greedily,  paying  in  skins  and 
ponies.  The  trader  saw  a  pretty  penny  in  pros- 
pect for  himself  at  this  rate  ;  and  so  long  as  he 
did  not  have  the  trouble  of  harvesting,  he  did 
not  care  Avhat  the  crop  might  be,  even  to  whirl- 
winds. 

The  trader  sent  out  occasional  letters,  remarking 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  21 T 

on  the  peaceful  bent  of  the  Indians,  These  aided 
him  in  securing  ammunition  with  which  to  supply 
them.  One  da}^,  he  wired  a  message  that  his  In- 
dians were  becoming  gloomy  and  sullen.  This  was 
later,  when  the  demand  for  ammunition  had  been 
well  satisfied,  and  he  thought  of  sending  his  fami- 
ly east  for  a  change.  Colonel  Gerrish  immedi- 
ately had  an  inspection  to  satisfy  himself  that  his 
command  was  in  good  fighting  and  marching  trim. 
A  little  later  came  another  message  saying  that  the 
Indians  were  becoming  insolent  and  aggressive ; 
the  trader  said  he  did  not  understand  it,  but  they 
appeared  menacing,  and  he  was  endeavoring  to 
pacify  them.  Colonel  Gerrish  sent  for  Captains 
Burns  and  Lyndon  and  quietly  bade  them  see 
that  there  was  nothing  amiss  with  their  companies, 
as  they  might  be  wanted  any  day ;  and  he  kept  in 
constant  communication  with  department  head- 
quarters. The  trader,  now  in  a  panic,  sent  more 
messages,  imploring  assistance;  the  Indians  were 
beyond  his  control,  and  could  only  be  held  in  check 
by  the  presence  of  troops.  And  he  closed  thus  : 
"  For  God's  sake,  send  troops." 

This  message  was  received  early  one  April  morn- 
ing ;  and  a  few  minutes  later  Colonel  Gerrish  re- 
ceived another  from  department  headquarters,  di- 
recting him  to  despatch  two  companies  to  the 
Agency  immediately,  holding  the  remainder  of  his 
force  ready  to  follow  them.  When  this  came  the 
troops  of  the  post  were  disposed  at  their  accus- 


218  OJY  THE  OFFENSIVE 

tomed  peaceful  labors.  There  was  no  sound  or 
thought  of  danger  anywhere. 

Suddenly  the  trim  orderly  ran  out  by  the  flag- 
staff and  blew  officers'  call  in  a  way  that  made  old 
captains,  mumbling  over  their  eggs  at  breakfast, 
toss  their  heads  like  disabled  war  horses.  Before 
the  notes  ceased  singing  from  his  bugle,  half  a 
dozen  lieutenants  were  cutting  corners  on  their 
way  to  the  headquarters  building  ;  and  after  them 
came  older,  sedater  men,  who  walked  \ni\\  dignity 
because  of  wounds  and  rheumatism.  One  and  all, 
they  gathered  in  the  colonel's  office,  heard  the  two 
messages  read  and  an  order  issued  for  Burns  and 
Lyndon  to  take  the  field  at  once.  That  was  all, 
gentlemen — unless  someone  had  something  to  sug- 
gest?    The  colonel  hesitated  courteously. 

Some  one  had.  Half  a  dozen  disappointed  lieu- 
tenants at  once  made  verbal  application  to  be  at- 
tached as  supernumerary  officers  to  the  command, 
and  to  be  allowed  to  accompany  it  forthwith  on 
the  expedition.  Colonel  Gerrish  looked  inquir- 
ingly at  Captain  Burns,  the  senior  captain  ordered 
out ;  he,  seeing  that  his  preference  was  being  con- 
sidered, shook  his  head  decidedly.  He  had  offi- 
cers enough,  and  the  ones  he  wanted.  Colonel 
Gerrish  at  once  refused  the  request  of  the  lieuten- 
ants, to  their  unutterable  chagrin  ;  and  the  assem- 
blage dispersed  more  quickly  even  than  it  had 
come  together. 

Ralph  and  Spurbridge  had  just  time,  as  they 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  219 

emerged  from  the  office,  to  toucli  hands  in  congrat- 
nlation.  One  of  the  disappointed  took  the  breath 
out  of  Spurbridge  with  a  forceful  punch  in  the 
ribs,  and  hissed : 

"D— n  the  luck!  Suppose  you  won't  transfer 
with  me  now,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Give  you  my  chance  of  heaven  first !  "  Spur- 
bridge shouted  joyfully  to  the  envious  one ;  and  he 
dashed  up  the  line  to  his  quarters.  On  the  way 
he  passed  his  captain,  who  was  older  and  could 
not  run  so  fast.  He  had  stopped,  and  was  mak- 
ing signals  across  the  parade  to  his  first  sergeant. 

"  Shall  I  run  over  there.  Captain  ?  "  he  asked, 
out  of  breath, 

"  Nope,  He  understands.  Hurry,  or  the  com- 
pany'U  be  ready  first," 

Quickly  Spurbridge  ran  on  up  the  line.  He 
met  Lydia  Gerrish ;  she  held  out  her  hand  and 
asked  him  a  question  with  her  eyes. 

"We're  headed  for  the  Agency,"  he  breathed, 
exultantly.  "  Can't  stop."  But  he  caught  her 
hand  in  a  momentary  pressure  as  he  went  by. 
She  forced  the  deep  concern  from  her  face,  and 
smiled  after  him. 

He  felt,  rather  than  saw,  that  the  life  of  each 
household  he  passed  was  suspended  in  agonizing 
apprehension ;  children  ceased  plajdng,  and  pale 
women  would  have  detained  him  for  information. 
He  reached  his  quarters,  and  made  a  dash  for  the 
quickest  change  of  rig  ever  witnessed.     How  glad 


220  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

lie  was  that  Ralpli  bad  warned  him,  and  that  he 
was  prepared  !  Trousers  of  the  firmest  cloth ; 
woollen  socks,  slightly  soaped  to  prevent  blisters ; 
strong,  broad,  marching  shoes,  laced  well  up  ;  leg- 
gins  ;  a  loose,  easy  blouse,  with  an  unconscious 
glance  of  pride  at  the  shoulder-straps  he  was  to 
wear  into  a  campaign  ;  slouch  hat ;  belt,  sword, 
revolver,  cartridges,  blanket — all  complete.  He 
rushed  out,  dimly  conscious  of  hoarse  voices 
shouting,  of  feet  that  had  been  hurrying  by  as  he 
changed  his  rig.  He  believed  no  one  could  have 
been  so  expeditious  as  he. 

He  looked  up  and  down  the  line.  There  were 
Burns,  and  Lyndon,  and  Ralph — all  out  before 
him !  Lawrence  alone  he  had  beaten.  That  was 
a  grateful  reflection,  for  Lawrence  was  accounted 
the  best  man  of  all.  Someone  ran  by,  calling  for 
the  doctor  ;  Mrs.  Lawrence  has  fainted.  Ah,  well ! 
no  glory  in  beating  a  man  under  such  circum- 
stances ;  and  just  then  Lawrence  came  running 
forth,  buckling  a  belt  as  he  came. 

Straight  across  the  parade  lay  the  company 
barracks.  A  big,  blue  wagon,  with  a  team  of 
six  mules,  stood  in  front  of  each.  Men  were  just 
tossing  in  the  last  bundles  of  equipage ;  the  coffee, 
bacon,  and  hard  bread  had  been  slid  in  while  the 
mules  were  being  harnessed.  Two  or  three  garri- 
son prisoners,  released  from  confinement  to  march 
with  their  companies,  leaped  with  joy  as  though 
to  go  upon  a  pleasure  jaunt.     The  companies  were 


Orf  THE  OFFENSIVE  221 

ready  to  form  ;  men  were  settling  blanket  bags  on 
their  shoulders,  and  sagging  prairie  belts,  heavy 
with  cartridges,  about  their  hips.  The  band  was 
out,  and  the  field  music  was  stringing  up  its  drums 
with  portentous  taps  of  the  stick.  Those  of  the 
garrison  who  were  not  going  stood  about  and 
shouted  meny  advice  to  those  who  were  ;  they 
were  covering  their  chagrin.  The  worst  luck  a 
company  could  have,  in  that  company's  opinion, 
was  not  to  be  at  the  head  of  the  roster  for  field 
service.  Those  who  were  going,  swaggered — they 
were  so  conscious  of  being  the  flower  of  the  flock. 

The  doctor's  ambulance  came  briskly  trotting 
up  from  the  hospital,  with  a  hospital  steward  in 
charge.  This  was  reassming  to  those  who  could 
not  go ;  had  there  been  a  prospect  of  real  fighting, 
the  surgeon  himself  would  have  gone.  The  faces 
of  the  elect  fell  a  little. 

This  was  all  lost  on  the  women  of  the  garrison. 
It  was  enough  for  them  that  troops  were  going  out 
on  a  moment's  notice.  The  wives  and  daughters 
of  the  married  soldiers  crowded  the  spaces  be- 
tween barracks  and  wailed  aloud.  They  knew 
they  would  see  those  loved  faces  no  more,  and 
they  were  uncomforted  by  the  occasional  impa- 
tient "  "WTiisht  now  !  "  from  those  they  publicly 
mourned  in  advance.  Over  on  the  line  were  the 
ofiicers'  families,  more  decorous  in  a  grief  that 
was  no  less  poignant.  The  ladies  held  their 
handkerchiefs    in    their    hands,    ready    to    wave 


222  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

clieerily,  and  looked  with  strained,  dry  eyes  upon 
the  preparations.  Among  them  were  some  who 
came  half-way  across  the  parade.  Lydia  walked 
as  far  as  that  with  her  father,  and  then  waited  till 
he  should  have  looked  the  companies  OA^er  for  the 
last  time.  Spurbridge,  seeing  her,  got  an  assent- 
ing nod  from  his  captain,  and  dashed  over  to  her. 

"  I  wish  you'd  do  me  a  favor,"  he  said.  "  Just 
drop  my  mother  a  line,  please  ?  Say  I  didn't  have 
time  to  write — unexpected  duty^ — no  danger,  you 
know — just  sudden  call.  She'll  thank  you,  and 
so  will  I." 

"  Yes,  I'll  do  that  for  you,"  she  said.  He  took 
her  hand — or  found  hers  in  his — neither  knew 
how  it  was,  for  they  were  looking  in  each  other's 
faces  silently.     However  it  was,  it  was  natural. 

"  Good-by,"  they  said.  She  returned  his  hand- 
pressure.  They  were  under  the  eyes  of  the  garri- 
son, but  did  not  know  it.  Then  he  darted  back 
to  his  company  and  took  his  place  in  the  line  of 
file  closers  just  as  the  excitable  field  music  gave 
some  premonitory  ruffles  on  the  drums.  Ealph, 
at  the  next  company,  saw  that  leave-taking — and 
gnawed  at  his  mustache,  and  cursed — himself. 

Then  the  band  burst  forth  in  a  terrible  roar  of 
brass,  and  reed,  and  drum  beat.  They  were  to 
play  the  column  out  of  the  post.  There  was  a  last 
wail  from  the  soldiers'  wives,  a  last  wave  of  the 
handkerchief  from  those  of  the  officers.  Law- 
rence, verv  white,  looked  straight  to  the  front  as 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  223 

he  tramped  away.  Balpli,  fierce  with  himself, 
gave  no  one  a  glance.  The  others  nodded  as  they 
passed  the  assembled  garrison  and  so  struck  out 
on  the  road  for  the  Agency.  A  small  cloud  of 
boys  and  dogs,  endeared  to  them  by  the  band  and 
the  glamour  that  attends  upon  fighting  men  when 
dusty  and  in  battle  trim,  followed  them  for  a  half- 
mile.  But  they  deserted  when  the  band  turned 
back,  and  the  two-company  column  took  up  its 
march  alone. 

At  the  Agency  the  anxiety  became  more  press- 
ing and  well  founded  as  each  day  went  by.  The 
Indians  strolled  into  places  generally  denied  them, 
as  though  to  encourage  reproof.  Their  glances 
were  malignant,  and  full  of  menace.  They  held 
pow-pows  that  were  not  for  peace.  They  invaded 
the  home  of  the  trader  himself,  and  looked  upon 
his  wife  and  daughters  with  eyes  that  sent  chilly 
shivers  over  them  for  hours  after.  The  painted, 
hideous  faces  of  bucks  would  be  pressed  against 
■windows  so  suddenly  and  so  stealthily  as  to  evoke 
cries  of  alarm  from  those  within.  Nerves  were 
shaken  ;  and  the  trader  was  at  his  wits'  end.  He 
had  counted  on  getting  aAvay  before  matters  should 
take  so  serious  a  turn  ;  but  he  had  been  prevented, 
and  now  he  was  wild  with  fear.  He  was  tele- 
graphing for  troops  every  day,  and  was  but  little 
comforted  by  assurances  that  a  force  was  on  the 
road.     Would  it  get  there  in  time  to  save  him  ? 


224  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

was  what  lie  continually  asked  himself ;  for  the 
way  was  long,  the  road  difficult  and  sure  to  be 
watched  by  the  hostiles.  He  feared  for  himself 
and  his  family,  knowing  that  Indians  were  no  re- 
specters of  persons  ;  and  he  burthenod  the  wire 
with  messages,  even  after  he  was  satisfied  that 
Burns's  force  was  within  three  days'  march. 

Then  what  he  had  feared  came  to  pass  ;  the  tel- 
egraph line  ceased  working.  The  Indians  had  cut 
the  wire  ;  it  was  part  of  their  devilish  Avork.  Cer- 
tain he  could  not  escape  them,  they  were  playing 
with  him,  letting  him  die  a  hundred  deaths  daily, 
before  they  should  strike  the  blow  that  would  end 
it  all. 

He  felt  that  the  crisis  was  approaching.  When 
messages  failed  to  reach  the  strong  stations  be- 
yond, greater  alarm  would  be  felt  than  if  he  had 
continued  to  pray  for  trooj^s,  and  troops  would  be 
speedily  despatched  ;  but  the  Indians  would  not 
delay  so  long  that  succor  might  reach  him.  Now 
they  were  bolder,  more  menacing  than  ever.  They 
thrust  their  hideously  painted  faces  into  his, 
stalked  through  the  Agency  buildings  at  will,  took 
whatever  pleased  their  fancy,  killed  stock  mali- 
ciously, danced  all  night.  Their  fires  burned 
always  ;  signal  smokes  made  ominous  the  rugged 
peaks  and  headlands  about ;  and  the  bucks  were 
assembling  in  full  strength.  The  little  command 
under  Burns  was  but  two  days'  march  away  ;  would 
it  arrive  before  the  Indians'  blow  should  be  de- 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  225 

livered  ?  The  trader's  hand  shook  as  he  examined 
his  small  arsenal,  and  estimated  the  stand  he  could 
make  against  the  entire  tribe  ;  and  the  lips  of  his 
wife  and  daughters  moved  often  in  prayer  during 
those  days  of  suspense.  And  meanwhile  the  In- 
dians danced  and  chanted  about  their  fires,  em- 
bodying in  their  manner  threats  more  fearful  than 
could  be  put  in  words. 

The  next  day  Indians  in  great  numbers  thronged 
about  the  Agency,  jeering,  mimicking,  and  making 
of  themselves  devils.  They  thrust  themselves  in 
the  way  of  the  trader,  and  accused  him  of  being 
white-hearted.  He  was  afraid.  He  had  sent  for 
soldiers.  The  soldiers  had  started,  but  they  had 
not  come.  No,  and  they  never  would  come.  Then 
they  would  go  through  horribly  suggestive  contor- 
tions, indicating  conflict,  death,  and  the  mutilation 
of  bodies  of  the  slain.  Where  were  his  soldiers 
now  ?  they  jeered ;  and  then  told  him  to  ask  of 
the  buzzard,  the  coyote,  the  unclean  beasts  that 
gather  about  carrion.  The  soldiers  marched  with 
their  eyes  shut.  They  had  walked  into  a  trap. 
They  had  not  time  to  fire  a  gun  before  they 
were  surrounded  and  killed.  Short,  sharp,  quick 
work  it  was,  and  the  Indians  had  not  lost  a 
man. 

When  the  trader  made  a  strong  display  of  cour- 
age and  refused  to  believe  their  boasting,  they 
offered  horrible  evidence.  They  displayed  bits  of 
soldier  apparel.  They  waved  bloody  scalps.  And 
15 


226  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

with  it  all  they  whooped  around  the  Agency  build- 
ings, working  themselves  into  an  ungovernable 
passion  for  murder  and  rapine.  The  trader  tried 
not  to  believe  the  horrible  assertions  of  massacre  ; 
but  he  knew  that,  by  nightfall,  the  little  column 
should  not  have  been  more  than  one  daj^'s  march 
away,  and  he  thought  that  by  an  effort  it  might 
have  already  reached  the  Agency.  This  gave 
color  to  the  tale ;  but  still  he  resolutely  pooh- 
poohed  it,  and  encouraged  his  family  to  hope  for 
relief.  There  was  one  weak  point  in  the  Indians' 
story,  and  that  gave  him  strength  to  believe  that 
the  whole  was  of  their  diabolical  imagining. 

That  morning,  the  courier,  upon  whom  the 
Agency  now  depended  for  communication  Avitli  the 
world,  had  ridden  forth.  His  route  took  him  over 
the  line  of  march  of  the  troops,  and  he  should 
have  met  them  if  they  were  still  coming,  or  likely 
have  perished  with  them  if  they  had  been  ambus- 
caded. But  in  their  boasting  the  Indians  made 
no  mention  of  him.  They  had  not  missed  him 
from  the  Agency,  and  believed  that  no  word  had 
been  sent  out  since  the  wire  was  cut — since  they 
had  fairly  invested  the  place.  Their  silence  re- 
garding the  courier  was  the  one  relieving  feature 
uj)on  which  the  trader  could  rely. 

When  the  courier  prepared  to  leave  the  Agency, 
he  and  the  trader  together  made  a  necessity  of 
cinching  the  saddle  more  firmly  than  usual,  of  in- 


ON  THE  oFFEysiru  227 

spectiiig  the  pony's  feet,  and  of  taking  one  look 
into  each  other's  eyes. 

"  Well,"  said  the  trader,  "  I  guess  it  depends  on 
you." 

"  Well,"  responded  the  courier,  "  I  c'n  do  it  or 
die.  There  ain't  nuthin'  else  for  it."  He  had  one 
hand  on  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  and  with  the 
other  he  pulled  his  belt  around  so  that  the  re- 
volver came  easily  to  hand.  "  An'  I  ain't  dyiu' 
neither,  so  fur's  heard  from,"  he  added,  grimly. 

"  The  hoss  don't  matter." 

"Oh,  I  expect  t'  kill  him  by  the  time  I  git 
tlier,"  said  the  courier.  He  swung  himself  into 
the  saddle,  and  settled  himself,  flat-thighed,  for 
the  work  before  him. 

"  Well,  take  care  of  yom-self.  Keep  an  eye  out," 
the  trader  cautioned  him,  in  friendly  spirit. 

"  That's  what,"  the  courier  replied,  easily.  He 
raised  the  reins,  and  the  pony  ambled  away. 
"  Adios  !  "  he  flung  back,  cheerily,  over  his  shoul- 
der. 

Then  he  pressed  the  spur  suggestively  against 
the  pony's  ribs,  and  cantered  out  of  the  Agency  by 
an  unusual  route,  making  a  detour  that  took  him 
through  a  rough  valley  or  two,  and  finally  brought 
him  upon  the  broad  trail  a  couple  of  miles  from 
the  Agency.  He  rode  on  at  a  swinging  trot,  not- 
ing each  accident  of  the  surface,  each  clump  of 
bush,  well  in  his  advance.  Nothing  within  easy 
shot   remained   unscauned.     His   mount,  a  wiry. 


228  OX  THE  OFFENSIVE 

uncouth  little  beast,  went  on  in  a  fashion  that  the 
courier  knew  he  could  maintain  for  days ;  but  he 
intended  to  spur  him  to  a  faster  gait  later,  when 
the  stars  should  be  set  on  high,  and  the  night  be 
still,  and  he  farther  away  from  the  dangerous 
neighborhood.  He  would  not  ride  so  fast  now 
that  he  could  not  reconnoitre  the  road  as  he  Avent. 
His  sole  ambition  for  the  pony  was  that  it  should 
last  till  he  could  reach  help. 

He  came  to  a  high  bluff  at  the  foot  of  which 
ran  the  creek  that,  later  in  its  course,  supplied  the 
Agency  with  water.  On  the  other  side  his  road 
la}'  by  it  for  a  mile  through  thick  willows,  winding 
so  sinuously  that  he  Avould  be  able  to  see  nothing 
a  rod  before  or  behind  him.  This  was  the  X)lace 
he  held  in  particular  dread  ;  if  he  was  to  be  am- 
buscaded anywhere  on  his  route,  it  would  be  in 
there.  Before  reaching  the  top  of  the  bluff  he 
halted,  dismounted,  and  leaving  the  pony  hidden 
behind  the  crest,  crept  forward  to  peer  over  at  the 
valley  beloAV. 

At  the  foot  of  the  steep  incline  leading  down  to 
the  ford  was  an  Indian,  panoplied  for  war.  The 
sun  brought  out  the  bright  colors  of  his  headdress 
and  showed  the  symbols  on  his  blanket.  He  Avas 
mounted,  and  was  stopping  that  his  pony  might 
drink.  He  carried  a  rifle  across  the  saddle,  and 
amused  himself  as  the  pony  drank  by  holding  it 
out  at  arm's  length  by  the  stock,  and  sighting 
alon"'  the  barrel.     He  had  no  thouGiht  of  beingj  ob- 


ox  THE  OFF  EX  Sir E  229 

served.  The  courier's  grip  on  his  revolver  tight- 
ened, but  he  would  not  risk  the  shot ;  the  distance 
was  considerable,  and  morever  steeply  descend- 
ing, and  there  might  be  many  Indians  withm 
hearing.  He  had  no  wish,  single-handed,  to  pre- 
cipitate a  conflict ;  his  errand  was  far  different. 

Then  the  Indian  pulled  up  the  pony's  head, 
crossed  by  the  ford,  and  disappeared  among  the 
willows.  When  he  had  been  out  of  sight  ten  min- 
utes the  courier  crawled  back  to  his  pony  and  went 
down  to  the  water.  He,  too,  crossed,  and  was  lost 
in  the  silent  depths  of  the  willows. 

He  had  never  been  in  a  place  that  he  so  de- 
voutly wished  himself  out  of.  Above,  silence  ;  to 
the  right,  silence  ;  below,  the  dull  thudding  of  his 
pony's  hoofs ;  on  the  left,  the  creek,  talking  melo- 
dious nonsense  to  the  willow-roots,  for  it  had  no 
sense  of  the  fitness  of  things.  Otherwise,  it 
would  have  hushed  itself,  and  permitted  the  cou- 
rier to  command  the  execrable  silence  that  threat- 
ened him.  He  was  a  brave  man  in  the  face  of 
danger,  but  he  w^anted  to  be  face  to  face  with  it — 
to  realize  it  for  what  it  A^as.  This  was  a  still, 
hovering,  impending  menace ;  it  was  not  only 
invisible,  but  it  was  cloaking  itself  in  silence. 
He  wished  that  lie  could  make  himself  invisible, 
could  make  the  pony  gallop  on  air.  Every  turn 
of  the  road  gave  new  possibilities  of  a  lurking  foe  ; 
every  turn  behind  but  wound  him  the  more  deeply 
into  the  depths  of  danger.     He  rode  on,  leaning 


280  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

forward  over  the  pony's  neck,  his  eyes  straining 
to  catch  a  first  glimpse  of  a  dusky  form  ;  his  right 
hand  chitched  the  revolver.  His  bearing  from  the 
waist  up  was  strained,  tense.  When  he  cast  a 
backward  glance,  his  teeth  were  clenched,  his 
breath  came  hurriedly.  He  was  alert,  ready  to 
face  in  any  direction  whence  danger  should 
threaten.  He  felt  that  it  must  be  in  there,  some- 
where ;  the  Indian  who  had  preceded  him  at  the 
ford  might  easily  have  turned  aside  with  natural 
cunning  to  watch  for  whatever  might  pass.  He 
had  not  done  so  yet — the  courier  could  see  the 
fresh  earth  cast  up  by  his  pony's  hoofs.  When  he 
noticed  that,  he  felt  reassured,  and  used  the  spur ; 
he  would  hurry  through  there  and  get  to  the 
broad  light  of  the  winding  hill  country,  where  it 
was  not  every  step  that  offered  chance  for  an  am- 
buscade. 

He  rode  forth  into  the  unfiltered  light  of  day  with 
so  deep  a  relief  that  the  pony  might  have  noticed 
a  diminution  in  his  burden.  His  hand  dropped 
from  the  revolver,  and  he  uttered  a  gay  chirrup. 
The  sturdy  little  beast  responded  nobly ;  he  did 
not  know  he  was  to  be  ridden  to  death. 

Suddenly  the  courier  swerved  from  the  beaten 
trail,  and  picked  a  way  by  hill  reckoning  through 
unsuspected  passes  and  along  narrow  paths  where 
never  a  road  had  been.  It  was  a  long  and  hard 
detour,  made  in  the  interests  of  safety.  The  main 
road,  though  shorter,  offered  so  manv  chances  for 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  231 

waylaying  that  the  coiirier  flattered  his  valor  by 
caltivating  his  discretion.  Then  he  came  into  the 
road  again,  and  it  stretched  before  him,  glimmer- 
ing white  in  the  strong  midday  sun,  away  over  five 
good  miles  of  level  land,  where  not  so  much  as  a 
coyote  might  find  shelter  from  inquisitive  eyes. 
This  gladdened  him  as  an  opportunity  sent  of  Pro- 
vidence, and  he  drove  the  pony  at  it  with  an  unre- 
lenting vigor  of  haste. 

On  he  went,  a  lengthening  wall  of  white  dust 
stretching  behind  him  in  the  still  air.  Presently 
he  came  to  a  place  where  the  road  forked ;  one 
trail  led  away  to  the  north,  where  cavahy  was 
stationed.  The  courier  passed  it  in  a  white  swirl- 
ing whirl,  tending  east  toward  the  nearer  post 
where  Colonel  Gerrish  commanded.  Somewhere 
along  that  road  he  would  find  two  companies 
marching  in. 

A  golden  mist  that  he  noted  in  his  front  soon 
resolved  itself  into  a  cloud  of  dust,  and  he  knew  it 
could  be  but  one  of  two  things ;  more  Indians 
moving  in  mass — hardly  possible — or  the  troops. 
Presently  he  was  able  to  distinguish  the  glint  of 
the  sun  on  burnished  surfaces,  and  his  heart  gave 
a  great  bound  of  thankfulness.  He  could  make  out 
the  military  order  of  the  column,  the  slant  of  the 
rifles,  the  rhythm  of  step.  Small  detached  dots  far 
out  on  the  sides  he  perceived  were  flankers,  beat- 
ing up  the  country  for  a  Ivirking  foe.  He  went  on 
at  his  best  pace  to  meet  the  body. 


232  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  You  want  to  strike  a  gait,  that's  all,"  said  the 
courier,  when  Captain  Burns,  in  another  minute, 
demanded  news.  "  Ther's  no  time  to  lose.  Wen 
I  come  away  they  was  firin'  guns.  They's  sassy, 
and  imperdent,  and  mean  biz,  th'  way  I  see  it." 
He  paused,  and  twisted  a  huge  chew  of  tobacco 
from  a  plug  with  his  teeth. 

"How  many  are  there?"  Captain  Burns  de- 
manded, with  nervous  impatience. 

"  Injuns  ?  You've  got  me.  Five  hunderd  sure  ; 
million,  maybe." 

Burns  tore  a  scrap  from  an  envelope  he  found  in 
his  pocket,  and  wrote  a  message  to  Colonel  Gerrish. 
"  Guess  that's  all,  isn't  it  ?  "  he  asked,  giving  it  to 
the  courier. 

"  That's  all,  I  guess,"  replied  the  courier,  tuck- 
ing the  note  in  a  pocket  and  trotting  away.  The 
column  swung  forward,  and  lost  itself  from  the 
courier  in  its  own  dust. 

The  column  was  arranged  to  guard  against  the 
possibility  of  a  surprise.  The  wagons  kept  close 
up  ;  flankers  and  advance  guard  radiated  from  the 
main  body  like  sticks  of  a  fan.  Ralph  was  far  in 
front  with  the  most  advanced,  directing  their  move- 
ments. Better  that  a  few  good  men  should  be 
picked  off  on  that  duty  than  that  the  entii-e  com- 
mand should  be  sacrificed. 

Burns,  tramping  at  the  head  of  the  column,  mo- 
tioned Lyndon  to  join  him.     The  soldiers  noticed 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  233 

this,  and  felt  a  sudden  affection  for  their  rifles. 
Lidian  sign  was  everywhere. 

"The  crossing  is  only  three  miles  from  the 
Agency,"  Burns  said.  "It  is  nearly  twenty  from 
here,  though.  We  would  have  to  make  a  night 
march  to  get  there,  now." 

"  We  should  be  cut  to  pieces  in  the  willows  at 
night,"  Lyndon  urged.  "  It's  risk  enough  by  day, 
but  we  do  have  a  fighting  chance  then." 

Burns  shook  his  head.  "  They  won't  let  us  get 
to  the  willows.  We  shall  catch  it  before  that,  if  at 
all." 

They  plodded  on,  mile  after  mile,  while  their 
shadows  grew  long,  and  they  began  to  think  of  camp 
and  supper.  The  long  stretch  of  the  five-mile 
prairie  was  behind,  and  hills  rose  about  them  in 
the  gathering  gloom.  Then,  suddenly,  far  in  their 
front,  sounded  a  rifle-shot ;  then  another,  and  an- 
other.    Lyndon  fell  back  to  his  own  company. 

"  We've  got  it  now !  "  cried  Burns,  his  lips  part- 
ing in  a  singular  smile. 

A  quick  thrill  ran  along  the  entire  column,  a  thrill 
of  surprise  that  made  the  men  turn  white  beneath 
their  dust  and  sunburn.  They  saw  nothing  to  fire 
at ;  was  the  enemy  to  fall  upon  them  from  the  sky  ? 
Lyndon  saw  the  wave  of  the  tremor.  "  Steady, 
men,  steady  there ! "  he  called,  warningiy.  The 
men  responded  to  his  deep  tone  admirably,  and 
settled  to  a  steady  pace  as  though  on  drill. 

The  firing  thickened  in  front,  and  a  man  could 


234  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

be  seen,  runniug  back.  Sliots  began  among  the 
encompassing  hills  ;  the  sound  echoed  back  and 
forth,  rattling  like  a  firing  by  file.  Five  hundred 
yards  out  on  the  right,  a  flanker  pitched  forward 
on  his  face,  kicked  twice,  and  lay  motionless. 
Spurbridge  saw  him,  and  thought  with  a  shock 
that  this  was  war — this  was  what  he  had  wanted 
to  see.  His  fellows  were  being  killed  ;  did  he  en- 
joy the  sight  ?  He  wondered  why  he  had  longed 
for  such  an  experience. 

Indians  began  to  show  themselves.  They 
crested  the  hills,  dancing  wildly  and  shouting 
derisively  ;  their  cries  came  but  faintly,  because  of 
the  distance.  They  fired  at  random,  and  their 
bullets  kicked  up  little  sprays  of  white  dust 
around  and  ahead  of  the  column.  A  faint  smell 
of  burning  powder  was  noticeable,  causing  Spur- 
bridge to  choke ;  he  could  hardly  breathe,  as  it 
was,  with  his  heart  in  his  throat,  beating  tumult- 
uously. 

The  man  who  ran  back  from  the  front  reached 
Burns,  panting.  They  had  uncovered  an  ambus- 
cade, far  ahead.  Two  men  were  killed — Lieuten- 
ant Ealph  was  falling  back.  Hundreds  of  Indi- 
ans were  in  front  and  on  the  hills  around  him. 
He  spoke  breathlessly,  and  in  great  excitement. 

Burns  nodded,  and  separated  two  sets  of  fours 
at  the  head  of  the  column.  "  Skirmish  forward 
and  support  him,"  he  commanded.  The  men 
dashed  off  as  if  upon  a  race. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  235 

The  flankers  began  to  close  in  upon  the  cohimn, 
decreasing  the  distance  from  danger ;  for  they 
were  pressed  by  the  Indians  hardily.  The  ad- 
vance guard  was  in  sight — a  mere  handful,  scat- 
tered at  wide  distances  across  the  line  of  march, 
firing  at  will.  Little  spouts  of  smoke  shot  curl- 
ing from  the  ravines  and  hills  on  each  hand,  and 
bullets  hummed  about  the  ears  of  the  men.  Once, 
a  soldier  moaned,  and  lurched  against  his  shoul- 
der-comrade ;  instantly  he  was  laid  in  the  ambu- 
lance, and  the  progress  of  the  column  was  not  for 
a  moment  delayed. 

A  small  hill,  tufted  with  clumps  of  trees,  lay  in 
the  right  front,  and  toward  it  Burns  urged  his  com- 
mand. "  We've  got  to  make  that  hill !  "  he  cried, 
and  the  column  broke  into  an  easy  dog-trot,  and 
swung  along  as  restfully  as  a  machine.  A  mule, 
struck  by  a  bullet,  leaped  squealing  in  the  air 
and  fell  back  among  his  fellows  of  the  team. 
They,  lashed  into  obedience,  pulled  the  dead 
weight  along  until  it  could  be  cut  clear  of  entan- 
gling harness.  Nothing  stopped  the  column  for  an 
instant.  The  flankers  drew  steadily  in ;  the  ad- 
vance guard  drifted  to  the  side  ;  and  finally  the 
little  command  stood  in  a  mass  upon  the  coveted 
summit. 

An  attack  in  force  was  evidently  a  matter  of  but 
a  few  moments,  and  there  was  no  space  for  breath- 
ing. "  Kill  the  mules ! "  shouted  Burns,  and  the 
faithful  animals  were  led  into  a  circle  and  dropped 


236  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

with  a  sliot  apiece  ;  tlieir  bodies  would  make  an 
excellent  breastwork.  The  wagons  were  tipped 
over  and  added  to  its  strength,  and  all  around  the 
defensive  circle  hastily  formed  rifles  bristled  out 
defiantly.  Each  man  flung  himself  solidly  into 
position,  ready  for  the  charge.  Not  until  then 
was  there  pause  to  mark  the  begiiming  of  the  fight. 

The  plan  of  the  Indians  had  miscarried,  through 
the  unmasking  of  their  ambuscade  by  Ralph.  A 
narrow  little  gorge  between  some  rocky  hills, 
where  every  foot  of  ground  ofi^ered  chance  of  con- 
cealment, had  been  chosen.  In  passing  through, 
the  column  would  have  been  at  their  lack  of  mer- 
cy ;  for  it  would  have  been  compressed  and  strung 
out  slenderly,  and  the  flankers  would  have  closed 
in.  The  courier  had  avoided  this  gorge  by  his 
detour.  Into  it  Ralph  proceeded  cautiously.  He 
sent  his  men  to  the  very  tops  of  the  surrounding 
hills,  and  searched  the  ground  with  the  utmost 
care.  In  climbing,  one  of  the  men  came  face  to 
face  with  a  painted  savage.  Both  were  equally 
ready  ;  two  guns  were  discharged  simultaneously, 
and  two  forms  sank  to  the  ground.  But  that  ex- 
posed the  whole  scheme  to  Ralph,  and  he  drew 
his  men  ofi^,  losing  but  one  more.  He  came  back 
from  the  mouth  of  the  gorge  slowly,  and  taking 
advantage  of  all  the  cover  afforded. 

This  was  Ralph's  rapid  report,  but  the  men  in 
the  little  circle  gathered  the  import  of  it.  Killeen 
supplied  the  information  they  lacked.     There  had 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  237 

been  Indians  "  miles  deep  "  in  their  front  and  on 
the  flanks ;  they  would  all  be  up  in  a  minute  for  a 
word  with  the  rifles.  Three  men  were  dead  al- 
ready, and  some  were  wounded.  The  men  swore 
when  they  thought  of  this. 

"  We'll  pay  that  bloody  trader  when  we  get  to 
the  Agency  !  "  Robinson  ^vhis]3ered  threateningly 
to  Killeen,  lying  at  loading  distance  beside  him. 

"  We  will  thot !  "  Killeen  replied,  with  unneces- 
sary oaths.  "  It's  gov'mint  amm'nition  they're 
firin'  at  us.     Just  let  us  get  there  :  that's  all !  " 

The  Indians,  who  had  been  pouring  out  of  ra\dnes 
from  all  directions,  were  massed  about  the  foot  of 
the  hill,  at  a  safe  distance.  To  Spurbridge  there 
seemed  thousands  of  them  ;  he  was  excited  beyond 
knowledge  of  the  fact.  He  saw  the  dark  throng 
swirl  about  the  hill  in  angry  swarms,  waving  their 
arms  in  gesticulation,  their  weapons  making  a  sav- 
age display.  Suddenly  they  seemed  to  divide, 
and  a  portion  retired  to  a  farther  distance.  Those 
who  were  left,  numbering  many  more  than  the  lit- 
tle band  on  the  hill,  turned  their  faces  inward  on 
the  circle.  A  wild  chant  arose,  a  hoarse  suppli- 
cation, and  then  the  fierce  throng  came  sweeping 
up  the  hill  as  though  to  grind  to  infinitesimal  pov\-- 
der  all  that  opposed  them.  As  they  came  they 
shrieked  like  demons. 

All  had  become  very  still  on  the  crest  of  the  hill. 
Up  against  the  Avagons  and  the  bodies  of  tlio 
mules  men  were  lying,  their  rifles  thrust  forward 


238  O.V  THE  OFFENSIVE 

over  the  slight  barricade,  their  mouths  bristling 
with  Avet  cartridges.  It  was  so  still  that  Spur- 
bridge  could  distinguish  the  sound  of  his  own 
breathing,  the  distinct  beating  of  his  own  heart. 
He  was  surprised  at  this,  for  he  was  saying  to 
himself  that  he  was  as  calm  as  he  had  ever  been. 
The  excitement  of  the  march  under  fire  had  passed, 
and  he  watched  the  onset  with  a  curious  delight. 
He  knew,  as  he  knew  of  heaven,  that  the  wave 
rushing  toward  him  would  soon  break  back  down 
the  hill,  leaving  contorted  elements  of  itself  to 
mark  where  it  once  had  been. 

Suddenly  he  was  recalled  to  himself  by  Ealph, 
who  rushed  at  him  v.dth  a  rifle  and  a  belt  of  cart- 
ridges. "What  are  you  standing  up  for?  Get 
down  and  work  ! "  he  cried,  breathlessly.  Spur- 
bridge  saw  then  that,  but  for  himself,  not  a  head 
was  exjDOsed  above  the  line  of  defence.  Every 
man  who  could  pull  a  trigger  lay  there,  Avaiting 
for  the  signal  to  pull  it  and  speed  death  in  the  as- 
saulting throng.  And  the  next  moment  Burns's 
pistol  cracked  in  the  silence  of  the  hill-top,  above 
the  din  of  the  shrieking  charge,  and  immediately 
the  circle  was,  rimmed  with  lire.  It  tipped  ilio 
top  of  the  wave  Avith  flame,  and  the  leaden  bullets 
sang  a  glad  song  as  they  tore  their  Avay  through 
the  opposing  flesh  and  tendon.  Spurbridge  felt 
liimself  roused  to  enthusiasm  by  the  din,  and  he 
pumped  on  the  rifle  as  fiercely  as  he  could.  lie 
thought  of  nothi'.ig,  nothing,  but  of  filling  the  uir 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  239 

in  his  front  witli  hissing  lead.  And  then,  through 
the  smoke,  he  became  aware  that  the  space  before 
him  was  cleared,  that  the  Indians  had  gone  back, 
that  the  firing  was  ceasing,  and  that  the  exultation 
of  victory  w-as  upon  his  comrades.  They  were 
leaping  to  their  feet,  screaming,  cheering,  cursing, 
grasping  one  another  about  the  waist,  standing  in 
view  of  the  foe  and  shouting  insults.  Ah,  it  was 
grand,  grand,  GRAND  !  It  w^as  a  moment  to  live 
for.  That  was  the  joy  and  delight  of  a  soldier's 
life,  the  heart  of  a  soldier's  heart.  It  was  worth 
not  alone  living  for — it  was  worth  dying  for. 

He  had  not  connected  the  ripping  sound  in  the 
air  as  he  stood  with  bullets  ;  it  had  not  occurred  to 
him  that  the  Indians  had  fired  a  shot.  But  as  he 
looked  around,  as  the  men  became  disciplined  sol- 
diers once  more,  he  saw  that  some  had  died  for 
that  moment  of  sv/eet  elation  to  him.  There  were 
two  or  three  who  lay  motionless,  as  though  they 
had  been  suddenly  crumpled  up  and  dropped 
from  the  hand.  On  their  faces  was  a  look  of  sur- 
prise, for  they  had  not  comprehended  what  was 
happening  to  them.  And  there  were  some  who 
writhed  and  screamed  in  pain.  Men  who  w  ere  un- 
harmed looked  at  their  nearest  comrades  to  see  if 
perchance  they  were  yei  there.  They  seemed  un- 
real, moving  about  aimlessly,  their  rifles  still 
smoking  thinly,  the  barrels  blistering  hot  to  the 
hand.  The  air  was  heavy  Avith  the  smell  of  burned 
powder,  its  white  clouds  lying  close  and  thick  over 


2-10  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

the  position.  Voices  were  almost  unrecognizable 
to  him,  for  his  ears  yet  rang  with  the  rattle  of 
rifles  and  the  roar  and  shout  of  the  Indians.  And 
then  the  sulphur  smell  floated  away  on  the  clear 
air,  and  its  choking  thickness  was  replaced  by  the 
sickening  smell  of  warm  blood,  rising  from  little 
ruddy  streams  that  had  started  to  become  rivers, 
had  then  ceased  flowing,  and  had  coagulated  into 
ponds  and  lagoons.  He  saw  Burns  and  Lyndon 
moving  about,  assuring  the  men  that  they  had 
done  wonders ;  and  then  he  found  Eali:)li  shak- 
ing him  by  the  shoulder  and  shouting  in  his 
ear : 

"  Well,  old  man,  you're  all  right  ?  Not  hurt  a 
bit,  are  you  ?  " 

He  grinned  feebly,  and  wiped  his  face  with  a 
smudgy  hand,  smearing  both  over.  "  Oh,  I'm  all 
right.     HoAv  is  it  ?     Have  we  done  them  ?  " 

"  Done  them  ?  I  should  say  we  had !  Not  one 
of  'em  within  shot  now!  And  you  did  nobly — 
hun^  to  it  like  a  veteran  !  " 

"  Oh,  what  else  could  I  do  ?  "  Spurbridge  asked, 
still  laughing  weakly.  Now  that  the  shock  was 
past  he  was  quivering  all  over. 

•The  sun  had  dropped  lingeringly  beyond  the 
western  ridges  as  the  Indians,  despairing  of  storm- 
ing the  hill  with  a  force  of  ten  to  one,  di'ifted  away, 
and  now  twilight  was  fast  deepening  into  night. 
The  stars  came  into  view,  pricking  through  the 
space  of  their  distances,  and  shed  a  glinting,  un- 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  241 

certain  liglit  over  the  wild,  tumbled  country.  A 
young  moon  among  the  sky  mountains  gave  cer- 
tainty to  their  shining  in  a  pale,  frightened  way. 
The  outlines  of  the  land  were  changed  as  by 
magic  ;  hills  stood  out  boldly  where  hills  had  not 
been,  and  turned  sudden  knife  edges  of  ridge  to 
the  light,  cutting  off  at  once  into  black  depth  of 
shadow.  Ravines  and  gullies  could  only  be 
guessed  at.  The  sparse  trees  stood  like  black 
sentinels  about  the  slopes,  and  scattered  rocks  be- 
came crouching  animals  of  every  degree. 

Most  of  the  men  remained  lying  about  the  cir- 
cle as  they  had  taken  position  for  defence.  Some 
were  resting,  others  were  scanning  the  ascending 
slopes  for  moving  objects.  They  were  very  quiet, 
murmuring  together  in  subdued  tones.  Then  the 
cooks,  aroimd  the  little  tires,  sheltered  from  ob- 
servation in  hollows,  uttered  one  word,  "  Chuck  !  " 
and  the  men  drifted  toward  them  in  glad  obe- 
dience to  the  summons.  The  smell  of  coffee  and 
frying  strip  bacon  saluted  their  famished  nostrils  ; 
for  they  had  made  a  long  march  and  fought  a  hard 
fight  since  being  fed.  And  as  officers  and  men 
gathered  almost  indiscriminately  about  the  cooks' 
pans,  Spurbridge  found  a  comfort  in  that  close 
compression  of  humanity.  All  were  men  facing 
danger  together.  Soldiers  obeyed  officers,  but  the 
officers  came  among  them  more  familiarly  than  his 
little  experience  had  shown  him.  They  were  very 
near,  one  to  the  other.  The  greasy  cartridge  was 
16 


242  0^''  THE  OFFENSIVE 

an  emblem  of  their  fraternity,  and  belts  but  bonds 
thereto. 

On  through  the  night  they  lay  within  their 
circle,  while  the  stars  swept  grandly  overhead  and 
lent  some  of  their  serenity  to  these  harried  mortals. 
The  sentinels  were  many,  and  were  unceasing  in 
their  yigilance.  Frequently,  from  the  black  depths 
of  a  ravine,  a  rifle  would  crack  spitefully,  sending 
out  a  stream  of  red  venom  toward  the  hill,  and 
showing  that  Indians  still  hedged  them  in.  But 
they  made  no  attack.  They  had  adopted  waiting 
tactics,  which  were  quite  as  certain  and  much 
safer,  if  they  were  left  to  carry  them  out.  They 
would  risk  no  more  lives  ;  they  would  wait  for 
thirst  and  hunger  to  drive  the  white  men  mad, 
when  the}^  would  be  easy  victims,  and  would  fur- 
nish choice  sport  in  the  torture.  Burns,  a  grizzled 
old  Indian  campaigner,  was  satisfied  this  was  what 
they  Avould  do  ;  and  so  he  was  alert  in  cautioning 
the  men  to  cherish  every  drop  of  watei",  and  to  eat 
sparingly. 

"If  you  get  hungry,  cinch  your  belts  up  a 
notch  ;  and  if  you're  thirsty,  forget  it,"  he  growled, 
half  jokingly.  The  men  nodded  ;  they  rather  liked 
to  be  approached  in  that  way. 

When  morning  dawned,  the  fire  of  the  Indians 
began  to  assert  itself  unpleasantly.  From  the  sur- 
rounding hills  their  bullets  dropped  about  the 
camp.  Sometimes  they  skulked  under  cover  near 
enough  to  shout  insults  to  the  white  men,  and  took 


ox  THE  OFFENSIVE  243 

deliglit  in  dwelling  on  tlieir  lack  of  courage. 
"  You  are  cowards  !  "  they  shouted.  "  Come  out 
and  fight  honest !     You  are  all  afraid  !  " 

This  served  the  purpose  of  irritating  the  men, 
and  caused  them  to  throw  away  many  good  cart- 
ridges. The  officers  cautioned  them,  and  had  to 
maintain  a  watch  that  they  should  not  expend 
ammunition  uselessly.  It  was  limited,  and  if  the 
time  came  when  they  had  none,  they  would  be 
completely  at  the  pleasure  of  the  Indians. 

As  the  sun  rose  hot  and  high,  the  scarcity  of 
water  became  felt.  Many  men,  despite  advice, 
had  emptied  their  canteens  to  gratify  slight  thirst, 
and  had  not  a  drop.  The  feverish  v/ounded  cried 
for  water  unceasingly,  and  there  was  none  for 
them  ;  at  the  best  their  lips  might  be  moistened 
from  time  to  time.  There  was  no  supply  on  which 
to  draw.  Burns  collected  all  there  was  in  camp 
and  put  a  guard  over  it ;  for  upon  it  the  existence 
of  the  command  seemed  likely  to  depend. 

In  their  desperate  strait,  with  the  end  of  the 
ammunition  in  sight,  the  ration  running  low,  and 
the  Avater  practically  gone,  but  one  consolation  re- 
mained to  them  :  the  Indians  could  not  know  how 
nearly  exhausted  their  supplies  were.  They  had 
been  rationed  for  a  week,  but  they  could  put  on  as 
brave  a  front  as  though  it  had  been  for  a  month. 
There  was  little  danger  of  another  charge  upon 
them,  and  the  long-range  practice  of  the  Indians 
v/as  execrable.     Their  bullets  made  an  uncomfort- 


244  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

able  shrieking  in  tlie  air,  but  few  found  tlieir  way 
into  camp.  So  the  men  lay  about  in  their  con- 
tracted circle,  and  made  a  determined  effort  at  calm 
enjoyment  of  the  situation. 

Whatever  its  privations,  the  command  never 
faltered  in  its  assurance  that,  somehow,  it  would 
come  through  all  right.  That  was  soldiers'  fatal- 
ism ;  they  hnew  they  could  depend  on  succor  of 
some  kind  in  the  last  pinch  of  the  emergency. 
Some  of  the  younger,  less  experienced  ones,  may 
have  had  uneasy  moments;  but  they  were  not 
made  public,  and  the  assumption  was  that  the 
camp  was  for  pleasure — albeit  pleasure  of  a  grim 
and  thrilling  kind — and  that  v.hen  it  pleased  them 
to  break  camp  and  go  on  they  would  do  so.  Ivil- 
leen  was  strong  in  setting  forth  this  theory  with  all 
the  persuasiveness  of  his  Irish  tongue  ;  and  as  a 
laugh  w^as  something  to  be  encouraged,  he  flattered 
himself  that  he  was  making  so  good  an  impression 
that  he  could  get  drunk  with  impunity  upon  re- 
turn to  the  post.  The  captain  would  never  court- 
martial  so  good  a  soldier  as  he  for  the  mere  offence 
of  drunkenness ! 

Some  time  in  the  second  night  Ralph  and  Spur- 
bridge  found  themselves  drawn  a  little  apart  from 
the  others,  and  talking  in  whispers. 

"  This  seems  like  the  genuine  thing,"  Spur- 
bridge  hazarded. 

"No  ear -marks  wanting,  I  believe,"  Ralph  as- 
sented.    "All  the  accessories  are  here,  even  to  the 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  245 

Indian  yells,  coming  in  at  intervals  like  a  well- 
trained  chorus." 

"  Oh,  it's  realistic  enough.  We're  even  getting 
doAvn  to  cases  for  something  to  eat  and  drink. 
That's  the  worst  of  it." 

"  It  won't  seem  so  bad  once  you  get  away  from 
it.  This  will  be  an  experience  to  write  about," 
Ralph  said,  indulgently. 

Spurbridge  shook  his  head  in  repugnance.  "  I'll 
never  want  to  mention  it."  He  hesitated  a  moment, 
and  then  went  on,  with  a  little  tremor :  "  Mention 
it !  I'll  never  have  the  chance.  Ralph,  it  doesn't 
seem  to  me  that  we're  ever  going  to  get  out  of  it." 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !  "  said  Ralph,  gripping  his  arm 
with  energetically  friendly  fingers.  "  This  is  noth- 
ing but  a  bagatelle,  when  you  come  to  that.  You're 
a  little  rattled,  that's  all— and  you  have  done  well 
thus  far,  too.  I  heard  Burns  saying  to  Lawrence 
he  never  saw  a  youngster  do  any  better  than  you 
have." 

"  Did  he  say  that  ?  "  Spurbridge  asked,  \nih.  a 
momentary  flash  of  pride. 

"  He  did,  indeed  !  And  Lawrence  had  noticed 
you,  too." 

"  Well,  I'm  mighty  glad  to  have  made  a  little 
record  of  that  sort,"  said  Spurbridge.  "You  know 
the  garrison  seemed  hostile  to  me  for  a  while, 
there.     I  didn't  like  that." 

"You've  proved  yourself  now,"  Ralph  replied; 
"  only,  don't  spoil  it  all  by  croaking.     We'll  get 


246  OiV  THE  OFFENSIVE 

out  of  it,  somehow ;  we  always  have,  and  our  hick 
isu't  going  back  on  us  at  this  late  clay." 

"  But  it's  the  suffering  of  the  thing  that  knocks 
me  out,  Ralph.  Those  poor  fellows  wounded 
there  and  begging  for  water,  when  there  isn't  a 
drop  anywhere  round.  And  to  see  the  others  with 
cracked  and  bleeding  lips  and  swollen  tongues — 
not  saying  a  word,  you  know,  bluffing  it  out,  but 
just  dying  for  a  swallow  of  Avater — it  breaks  me  all 
up.  Of  course  I  wouldn't  give  it  aAvay  to  anyone 
but  ,you." 

"  And  you  can  bet  I  won't  betnxy  your  confi- 
dence," returned  R;dph,  laughing  a  little,  and  pat- 
ting the  young  fellow's  shoulder. 

The}^  were  silent,  Avhile  the  stars  came  out  in  yet 
greater  numbers  to  look  upon  the  uidioly  things 
being  done  in  an  obscure  corner  of  the  earth. 
Ralph  whistled,  yawned,  and  tried  to  see  the  time 
by  his  watch.  Failing,  he  stood  up  and  got  the 
starlight  on  the  face  of  it ;  even  this  Avas  too  faint, 
and  he  grumbled  as  he  struck  a  match  and  shield- 
ed the  blaze  Avith  his  hand.  An  ansAvering  flame 
sped  from  the  depth  of  the  night,  and  a  bullet 
sang  overhead. 

"  Good  line  shot,  but  a  trifle  high,"  Ralph  ob- 
served, pocketing  his  Avatch.  He  held  the  burn- 
ing match  above  his  head  at  arm's  length,  inviting 
shots,  till  it  went  out.  "  No  improA'ement,"  h<i 
said,  sitting  down.  "  Funny,  Indians  never  do 
learn  to  use  a  rifle." 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  247 

"How  long  do  you  reckon  we  can  keep  this 
thing  up  ?  "  Spui'bridge  asked,  suddenly. 

"  Till  we're  relieved,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

"And  when  will  that  be  ?  " 

"  Just  in  the  nick  of  time,"  Ralph  replied,  im- 
perturbably.  "Look  here!"  he  said.  "If  you 
think  fate  has  gone  back  on  us  you're  way  off. 
Or — but  you  don't  call  it  '  fate,'  do  j'ou  ?  Well, 
why  not  make  use  of  your  faith  ?  Why  don't  you 
pray,  if  you  believe  in  it  ?  Lots  of  good  soldiers 
have." 

"  Oh,  I  do  believe  in  it ;  but  a  fellow  doesn't  go 
out  and  shout  prayers  the  way  Indians  do  their 
taunts,"  said  Spurbridge. 

"No,  that's  so,"  said  Ealph,  as  though  he  had 
thought  that  was  the  way.  "  Well,  you're  fighting 
and  praying  on  the  right  side,  I  guess.  It  doesn't 
seem  as  if  we  ought  to  be  sacrificed  for  the  sins  of 
that  trader — I  guess  the  devil's  got  him  by  this 
time ! " 

"  No,  it  wouldn't  seem  right,  from  our  point  of 
view,"  Spurbridge  admitted. 

Ealph  chuckled  softly  to  himself.  "  Guess  I'll 
go  over  where  my  fellows  are,"  said  he  presently, 
as  Spurbridge  was  quiet.  "  I  pre-empted  a  hubbly 
portion  of  the  earth's  bosom,  and  I  will  fit  myself 
to  it  and  try  to  sleep.  Are  you  with  me  on  that 
question  ?  " 

"  Yes,  might  as  well,"  Spurbridge  ya^^^led.  All 
was  still  in  the  camp,  save  for  muffled  tones  and 


248  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

deep  breathing.  Sentinels  were  watching  vigil- 
antly, noiselessly.  A  puff  of  wind  blew  up  ashes 
from  the  place  of  the  cook's  fire ;  there  were  no 
embers.  "  Yes,  I  guess  I'll  sleep  a  little.  Good- 
night." 


Deep  apprehension  was  felt  at  tlie  Fort  over  the 
fate  of  the  two  companies.  Despatches  from  the 
Agency  continued  to  tell  of  the  critical  condition 
there.  Department  headquarters  were  notified, 
and  Colonel  Gerrish  received  authority  to  use  his 
discretion  to  an  unusual  extent.  The  third  day 
the  wire  ceased  working  in  the  middle  of  a  mes- 
sage, and  after  that  no  word  came  in.  Colonel 
Gerrish  at  once  put  five  companies  on  the  road ; 
other  military  stations  got  orders,  and  in  twelve 
hours  a  strong  force  of  cavalry  and  infantry  was 
converging  on  the  Agency.  Speed  was  required, 
for  if  silence  was  to  be  interpreted,  troops  could 
not  reach  there  too  soon.  The  five  companies  of 
Colonel  Gerrish  bundled  themselves  into  wagons, 
and  whirled  over  the  level  prairie  miles  at  a  spank- 
ing gait. 

The  next  day,  as  they  toiled  at  a  foot  pace  over 
a  more  diflicult  country,  a  speck  appeared  on  the 
white  road  far  in  their  front,  coming  toward  them. 
It  soon  resolved  itself  into  a  man  on  horseback, 
spurring  hard.  Nothing  but  dire  necessity  could 
compel  a  man  to  ride  so  at  such  a  dist:ince  from 


250  0:V"  THE  OFFENSIVE 

support.  This  was  the  courier  from  the  Agency, 
riding  as  he  had  ridden  day  and  night,  save  for 
breathing  and  feeding  stops.  He  was  ashen  with 
dust,  his  throat  was  choked,  and  he  could  do  no 
more  than  make  signs  and  hold  out  Burns's  mes- 
sage. A  dozen  flasks  A^ere  offered  him  by  com- 
miserating hands,  and  he  accepted  the  one  near- 
est. 

"  I  come  in  considerbul  hurry,  Colonel,"  he  said, 
then.  "  I  reckon  it's  a  case  of  hurry.  Th'  Agency's 
gone,  sure  ;  I  know  it's  well's  I  know  I'm  here. 
An'  I  reckon  there's  Injuns  'nough  to  keep  them 
fellers  the  note's  from  busy  till  3'ou  git  along." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  commanding  officer,  calm- 
ly. "  Now  go  on  into  the  post  and  rest.  Will  the 
pony  carry  you  that  much  farther  ?  " 

The  courier  turned  an  indignant  look  upon  him. 
"  I  don't  keer  'bout  th'  hoss.  He  c'n  die  now  'f  he 
wants  to.  I'm  tu'nin'  roun'  an'  goin'  back  'ith 
you." 

"Glad  to  have  you  ;  but  I'm  afraid  you'll  have 
to  foot  it." 

"I'll  chance  it  'ith  th'  boys,"  he  replied. 

The  force  pressed  on.  It  was  no  longer  a  ques- 
tion of  a  quick  march  merely,  but  of  getting  to  the 
Agency  in  the  shortest  possible  time.  Every  nerve 
was  strained  to  accelerate  the  pace.  The  miles 
reeled  off  in  rear  of  the  column,  rapidly ;  and  when 
the  men  lagged  from  vveariness,  or  Avlien  it  was 
necessary  to  conserve  their  strength,  they  mounted 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  251 

the  wagons.  They  got  over  the  ground  as  rapidly 
as  cavah-y  on  an  ordinary  march  might  have  done. 

As  night  drew  in,  they  dropped  down  by  the 
road  for  supper.  They  had  coftee  and  meat,  and 
smoked  an  easy  pipe  as  they  rested.  The  mules 
Avere  unharnessed,  fed,  watered,  and  given  a  chance 
to  roll  and  shahe.  Then  the  teams  were  reassem- 
bled, and  into  the  gathering  gloom  the  little  force 
disappeared  at  a  brave  pace.  They  were  silent 
about  it.  Save  for  the  rattle  of  harness  or  the 
clinking  of  metal  as  bits  of  accoutrements  hit 
against  each  other,  there  was  no  sound  but  the 
tramp  of  many  feet  on  the  hard  soil. 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  a  halt  was  again 
called  for  a  rest.  The  tired  men  flung  themselves 
at  full  length  on  the  ground.  The  mules  drooped 
from  the  heavy  strain  over  miles  of  rough  road. 
And  then  on  again  the  cokimn  tramped,  never 
swerving  from  its  endeavor  to  reach  the  dangerous 
place,  and  succor  those  in  peril.  Another  sundown 
might  bring  them  into  the  Agency ;  or  if  Burns's 
command  had  been  attacked  and  brought  to  a 
stand,  it  would  have  been  reached.  The  rescuing 
force  knew  no  limit  to  its  endurance. 

In  the  early  gray  of  coming  dawn,  when  the 
earth  was  still  drows}^  and  the  cold  light  disclosed 
the  outlines  of  rugged  hills,  bare  of  trees  and  stud- 
ded thick  Avith  rocks,  they  entered  upon  the  hill 
country  of  the  Indian  reservation,  in  the  heart  of 
which   lay   the   Agency.     As  the}'  v.'cut   the   sun 


252  ON  TEE  OFFENSIVE 

came  up,  red  and  angry,  upon  their  backs,  and 
drove  them  before  him  with  a  fierce  heat.  About 
them,  all  was  silent  and  desolate.  An  occasional 
Tulture  of  a  bird  flapped  heayily  above  them,  as 
though  keeping  an  eye  upon  prospective  carrion  ; 
but  through  the  hills  there  was  no  sign  of  life. 
There  was  a  depth  of  silence,  a  degree  of  desola- 
tion that  was  oppressive,  and  would  of  itself  have 
hushed  the  chaff  of  the  men  had  they  attempted 
any;  but  they  were  too  weary.  Their  eyes  were 
red  with  fatigue  and  loss  of  sleep,  their  faces  were 
pale  beneath  the  sunburn,  and  the  alkali  dust  had 
fastened  its  ghost-like  whiteness  upon  every  par- 
ticle of  exposed  skin,  there  to  irritate.  But  they 
carried  their  rifles  with  a  due  regard  for  their  im- 
mediate usefulness,  and  would  occasionally  blow 
the  dust  from  the  breech-block,  and  open  and  close 
the  chamber  to  assure  themselves  that  the  pieces 
were  in  working  order.  And  they  spurred  them- 
selves on  with  an  intensity  that  was  all  the  more 
impressive  because  it  v\^as  unvoiced,  and  shov.'ed 
itself  only  in  looks  and  actions. 

The  courier,  in  a  semi  guide-like  capacity,  was 
with  the  commanding  officer  at  the  head  of  the 
column.  It  was  here,  he  said,  that  he  had  met 
Burns's  command.  He  explained  that  he  had  made 
a  detour  farther  ahead  to  avoid  bad  road,  and  he 
thought  Burns  would  have  been  attacked  some- 
where along  it ;  certainly,  the  Indians  knew  of  the 
presence  of  the  troops  as  soon  as  ever  they  touched 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  253 

the  borders  of  tlie  reservation.  And  here  was  the 
trail  from  the  north,  over  which  the  cavaky  w^ould 
be  coming.  The  commanding  ofl&cer  had  hoped, 
in  pressing  the  infantry  march,  to  join  forces  here, 
but  a  ghiuce  told  him  that  the  cavalry  had  out- 
marched him  in  the  race.  The  trail  was  beaten  to 
a  white  powder  by  the  hoofs  of  shod  horses,  and 
the  grass  was  trampled.  He  and  his  officers  shook 
their  heads  wickedly ;  the  cavalry  would  get  all 
the  honors,  and  for  themselves  there  would  be  but 
the  barren  satisfaction  of  a  forced  march  to  no 
purpose.  The  cavalry  had  gone  ahead  as  though 
there  was  no  infantry  within  a  few  hours'  march  ; 
not  even  a  single  trooper  had  been  despatched 
down  the  road  to  open  communications  ;  they  had 
been  snubbed,  disregarded ;  the  old  sore  of  jeal- 
ousy was  reopened,  and  it  was  but  sullenly  that 
they  still  pushed  on  in  a  fulfilment  of  duty  from 
Avhich  all  enthusiasm  was  gone. 

But  the  cavalry  was  hapj^y,  although  men  and 
mounts  were  jaded.  It  had  added  to  their  fire  to 
know  that  i\\&y  were  ahead.  "  This  is  our  affair," 
was  the  thought  that  sang  in  their  hearts  ;  "  the 
doughboys  can  come  along  and  help  gather  up  the 
remains ;  we  will  do  the  carving,  and  put  another 
crimson  bar  in  the  shield  of  our  regiment."  So 
they  had  flimg  themselves  forward  until  a  faint 
snapping  sound  was  borne  to  their  ears  by  the 
head  breeze.     It  was  far  and  away,  but  was  un- 


254:  ON   THE   OFFENSIVE 

mistakably  rifle  filing.  Men  who  once  learn  are 
neyer  mistaken  in  regard  to  it.  The  tired  horses 
pricked  up  their  ears  intelligently  ;  the  men  looked 
at  one  another  and  nodded;  their  fatigue-lined 
faces  brightened  wonderfully ;  all  hardships  were 
forgotten  in  the  loved  light  of  coming  conflict,  the 
fierce  impulse  to  get  into  the  fray  and  help  their 
comrades.  For  never  yet  did  Indians  attack  when 
there  were  not  odds  of  numbers  in  their  favor. 
There  were  surely  hundreds  against  the  little  band 
of  sixty  or  less  who  were  fighting  gallantly,  and  al- 
ways, one  might  be  very  certain,  listening  if  the 
breeze  should  bring  them  the  notes  of  a  bugle,  the 
cheers  of  advancing  comrades. 

"  Blow,  bugler,  blow  them  a  blast !  Never  mind 
what  it  is !  "  The  column  was  speeding  down  the 
road,  guided  only  by  the  sound  of  rifles.  And  the 
bugler,  putting  his  bugle  to  his  lips,  sent  out  a 
brazen  blare  that  might  well  have  penetrated  to 
the  beleaguered  ones  and  given  them  a  lively  hope. 
The  firing,  now  distinct,  drew  them  like  a  magnet. 
They  debouched  into  a  valley,  wide  and  strewn 
with  hillocks,  at  the  far  extremity  of  which  rose 
the  hill  with  trees,  around  which  circled  a  smoke 
of  powder,  and  from  which  came  defiant  flame- 
spurts. 

The  sight,  the  sound,  the  smell,  all  were  as  in- 
spiriting to  the  cavalry  as  the  notes  of  a  waltz  to  a 
gay  party.  The  bugles  tittered  to  the  trot,  and 
the  pace  became  accelerated.     "  Gallop  !  "  laughed 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  255 

the  bugles,  and  the  cavahy  went  down  the  valley 
in  a  thnnder  of  hoofs.  The  leader  swung  his  sabre 
about  his  head,  the  bugle  sent  out  a  peal  of  meny 
notes,  and  the  column  shot  by  the  right  front  into 
line  at  a  mad  run.  The  Indians  heard  them,  saw 
them,  saluted  them  with  yells  of  rage,  and  turned 
to  face  this  new  foe.  And  then,  with  a  swirl  that 
meant  destruction,  the  glad  cavalry  rushed  upon 
them,  revolvers  popping  and  sabres  swinging  in 
mad  delight  to  taste  blood. 

That  was  too  much,  with  the  hot  flanking  fire 
that  burst  from  the  hill  top.  The  Indians  broke 
for  shelter,  their  only  thought  to  save  themselves. 
The  cavalry  rushed  after  them,  cutting  them  down 
relentlessly.  And  then  the  men  who,  for  two 
days  and  two  nights  had  sustained  the  attack,  rose 
up  in  the  face  of  victory  and  tried  to  cheer.  They 
swelled  their  chests  and  opened  their  mouths — 
but  oh,  the  pitiful  sound  they  gave  forth ! 
Parched  and  choked  by  heat  and  fever  and  sul- 
phur breath,  they  could  only  expel  a  sound  as  of 
a  soft  wind  ;  and  as  their  comrades,  rushing  to 
them,  clambered  over  the  breastwork,  they  caught 
at  the  precious  canteens  of  tepid  water  so  eagerly 
held  out  to  them,  and  dropped  on  the  ground  and 
drank. 

Later,  Avhen  the  infantry  had  come  up  and  the 
cavalry  had  ridded  the  line  of  march  of  its  red- 
skinned  pests,  the  Agency   was  reached.     Bnt  it 


256  OW  TEH  OFFENSIVE 

was  too  late,  so  far  as  the  fate  of  the  trader  and  his 
family  was  concerned.  The  men  soon  came  upon 
the  trader — what  there  was  of  him.  It  was  not 
pleasant  to  look  npon.  The  Indians  had  shown 
him  no  leniency  because  of  his  share  in  fitting  them 
out  for  the  war-path,  but  had  seen  in  him  only  one 
of  the  hated  race  of  their  oppressors.  As  for  his 
wife  and  daughters,  there  was  no  trace  of  them. 
They  had  not  been  killed ;  but  it  had  not  been  ex- 
pected that  they  would  be.  It  was  weeks  before 
they  were  found  to  be  yet  alive,  and  months  before 
they  were  given  up  by  their  captors.  Their  story 
was  the  same  that  has  been  told  by  frontier  women 
ever  since  there  was  a  frontier  upon  which  women 
might  venture. 

But  the  mangled  trader  lay  in  view  of  all.  The 
sight  of  him  might  have  roused  pity  in  the  breasts 
of  unaccustomed  men,  or  those  unacquainted  with 
events  immediately  preceding  the  outbreak.  But 
these  fighting  men  were  not  such.  They  looked 
upon  his  corpse  and  cursed  its  departed  life  with 
swelling  indignation ;  for  their  eyes  were  red,  their 
bodies  weary,  and  their  sonls  in  a  rage,  all  Avith  the 
severe  strain  of  the  march  and  fight,  and  the  loss  of 
loved  comrades.  Infantry  and  cavalry  fraternized 
over  the  remains  while  the  officers  turned  their 
backs.  It  was  as  much  as  could  be  done  to  get  the 
body  of  the  offensive  man  decently  underground. 

And  then  the  men  rioted  through  the  stores  and 
corrals  of  the  trader.     Break,  burn,  destroy!     In 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  257 

tliat  way  they  would  leave  the  mark  of  their  criti- 
cism on  the  place.  In  their  hearts,  the  officers 
sympathized  with  the  feeling ;  and  if  any  intima- 
tion of  their  non-inclination  to  enforce  discipline 
ever  reached  the  War  Department,  no  suspicion  of 
it  has  been  gained  from  official  action. 

The  men  raged  into  the  dwelling,  Killeen  a 
leader.  "  Come  on !  Here's  carpets !  Here's 
china !  We  paid  for  them !  Here's  a  piano — blood 
of  our  comrades  on  it !  Men  we've  lived  with  and 
fought  with  and  seen  die  !     Come  on !  " 

His  axe  fell,  broad-side,  on  the  key-board,  and 
the  piano  sent  out  a  discordant  howl  of  misery. 
The  men  devastated  the  place.  Everything  that 
bore  the  stamp  of  the  trader's  belongings  fell  be- 
fore them.  The  fury  expended  itself  only  when 
no  damage  remained  to  be  done.  One  would  have 
said  such  havoc  was  the  work  of  implacable  foes ; 
a  force  whose  coming  the  trader  had  longed  for 
would  never  have  been  suspected  of  it. 

There  followed  months  of  difficult  work  in  the 
field  before  the  Indians  were  again  brought  under 
subjection  and  the  border  reassured  of  safety. 
Cavalry  and  infantry  were  sent  into  the  territory  in 
force  ;  the  Government  was  put  to  great  expense ; 
the  settlement  of  lands  was  delayed  by  fear  of  other 
outbreaks.  It  was  hard  work  for  the  army,  but 
work  it  performed,  bringing  order  once  more,  and 
peace,  where  war  had  been.  Small  thought  was 
17 


258  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

given  by  those  wlio  at  safe  distances  read  accounts 
of  fight  and  struggle,  of  assault  and  ambush,  to  the 
brave  men  who  went  down  in  redness  to  a  sudden, 
violent  death.  They  Avere  soldiers,  and  death  after 
such  manner  was  their  natural  portion.  If  they 
loved  life,  they  should  not  be  soldiers.  Theorists 
opposed  the  use  of  troops  at  all,  and  Avould  have 
tried  persuasive  methods.  The  army  was  between 
two  tires :  it  was  condemned  if  it  did  its  duty,  and 
it  was  condemned  if  it  did  not.  Indian  warfare 
brought  it  no  satisfaction  but  that  of  its  own 
strength  and  rectitude.  And  at  last  the  Indians 
were  beaten  back  to  their  set  limits  by  the  skilful 
use  of  brute  force — which  is  the  only  force  the  In- 
dian can  appreciate  and  respect.  And  peace  was 
restored,  and  corn  was  sown  on  land  that  had  been 
fertilized  with  blood. 

A  few— a  very  few — officers  and  enlisted  men 
were  complimented  in  orders,  of  which  the  world 
never  heard,  for  their  courage,  skill,  and  endurance. 
The  men  who  died  in  the  campaign  were  buried 
where  they  fell  with  no  more  than  a  rock,  with  per- 
haps a  rude  cross  scratched-  on  it,  to  mark  the  place 
— their  very  names  unknown,  save  to  a  few  un- 
heard-of enlisted  men,  their  comrades.  But  the 
martyred  trader  was  known  and  spoken  of  and  la- 
mented at  large.  And  then,  oblivion  strewed  her 
poppy,  and  the  whole  fierce  summer  was  forgot, 
save  by  the  few  who  had  participated  in  its  ter- 
rors and  hardships. 


XI 


Aftee  the  last  band  of  liostiles  liad  surrendered 
and  gone  to  the  reservation  in  a  semblance  of  sub- 
mission, the  troops  engaged  were  gi-adually  relieved 
from  field  duty  and  remanded  to  their  stations. 
The  infantry  was  among  the  last  to  get  the  wel- 
come order,  for  it  was  of  special  use  in  guarding 
trails  and  in  holding  strategic  points  quietly  in 
force  ;  and  snow  was  flying  before  it  went  into  bar- 
racks. There  had  been  something  exciting,  some- 
thing exhilarating,  about  the  whole  wretched  busi- 
ness, Spurbridge  told  himself  as  he  sat  in  these 
little  sentinel  camps  after  active  measures  were 
over.  He  had  rejoiced  in  the  open  air  life  and  the 
bodily  exertion,  for  he  was  young  and  muscular, 
and  had  a  healthy  physique  that  delighted  in  such 
endeavor.  But  when  he  was  ordered  back  to  the 
Fort  and  knew  there  was  to  be  no  more  tapering, 
but  that  the  campaign  was  squarely  at  an  end,  he 
was  appalled  to  find  how  soon  the  old  feeling  of 
dissatisfaction  took  possession  of  him.  He  would 
have  been  glad  to  settle  down  to  a  philosophic  ease 
as  the  other  officers  did ;  they  took  what  came  as  a 
matter  of  course,  did  their  duty  methodically,  and 


260  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

killed  off  the  rest  of  the  time  iu  a  few  stereotyped 
ways,  quite  as  they  had  before  the  campaign.  Of 
course  the  campaign  offered  them  no  reason  for  a 
change ;  but  it  had  for  the  time  lifted  Spurbridge 
so  far  out  of  himself  that  he  was  shocked  to  find, 
the  strain  being  over,  that  life  went  on  as  mono- 
tonously and  with  as  much  apparent  aimlessness 
as  before.  He  knew  now  that  a  soldier's  life  must 
consist  of  alternate  periods  of  fierce  endeavor  and 
of  listless  poverty  of  occupation.  Neither  of  these 
seemed  to  him  worth  while,  as  he  thought  it  over 
in  his  lonely  set  of  quarters. 

When  he  went  of  an  evening  to  call  on  Colonel 
Gerrish,  and  especially  to  talk  with  Lydia,  he 
fancied  that  the  colonel  regarded  him  with  a 
glance  in  which  suspicion  and  interest  mingled. 
The  gallant  old  veteran,  whose  record  was  one 
long  list  of  battles  and  victories  and  honorable 
mentions  and  brevets  for  conspicuously  able  ser- 
vice, was  so  completely  a  soldier  tliat  he  could 
not  help  entertaining  doubts  of  the  entire  reliabil- 
ity of  one  to  whom  the  military  life  should  seem 
insufficient.  He  had  no  technical  faiilt  to  find 
with  Spurbridge ;  he  had  him  pigeon-holed  as  a 
faithful  officer,  though  not  especially  enterpris- 
ing ;  he  lacked  the  vim  and  ardor  that  goes 
with  a  complete  sympathy  in  one's  work.  To  be 
sure,  no  one  displayed  much  vim  and  ardor  in  the 
matter  of  recurring  reveilles  and  company  drihs, 
but  even  there  Spurbridge  fell  below  the  rest,  in 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  261 

the  colonel's  estimation ;  his  company  did  not  set 
up  so  smooth  a  drill  as  the  others,  and  his  roll-calls 
lacked  the  presence  of  the  indispensable  second 
lieutenant  oftener  than  the  colonel  liked.  Still  he 
hoped  to  see  Spurbridge  develop  into  as  much  of 
a  man  as  any  in  the  command. 

With  Lydia,  however,  Spurbridge  discovered  a 
sympathy  of  interest  that  was  neither  entirely 
military  nor  entirely  literary ;  nor  was  it  made 
of  these  two  elements  to  the  exclusion  of  others. 
There  was  a  certain  personal  pleasure  and  gratifica- 
tion in  the  relationship,  which  he  blunderingly  at- 
tributed to  every  cause  but  the  right  one  ;  it  never 
occurred  to  him  that,  had  any  other  lady  of  the 
garrison  displayed  a  similar  interest  in  his  work 
he  would  not  have  found  the  same  delight  in  her 
society  that  he  now  found  in  Lydia's.  It  had 
nothing  to  do  with  her,  but  only  with  the  chance 
that  led  her,  rather  than  another,  to  speak  to  him 
of  writing.  And  when  he  talked  with  her  in  un- 
restrained fashion  of  these  hopes  of  his,  it  was  still 
due  to  that  chance  and  not  to  any  personal  quality 
of  hers.  So  he  thought ;  and  he  was  disabused  of 
the  idea  only  by  slow  degrees. 

It  rather  annoyed  him  to  find  that  she  was  get- 
ting to  care  less  for  their  confidential  chats  than 
he  did ;  but  he  was  sure  this  was  the  case,  for 
sometimes  she  betrayed  a  lamentable  degree  of  in- 
attention when  he  was  speaking  of,  to  him,  impor- 
tant things — things  that  he  thought  should  have 


262  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

an  interest  for  her.  There  was  one  particular  oc- 
casion when  he  had  discoursed  at  considerable 
length  only  to  find,  when  he  paused,  that  her  gaze 
had  been  on  his  face,  but  that  her  thoughts  had 
taken  slight  notice  of  his  words.  She  seemed  un- 
able to  make  any  suitable  reply,  and  he  looked  at 
her  with  a  touch  of  indignation  in  his  surprise, 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  a  trifle  stiffly. 
"  It  is  wrong  of  me  to  bore  you  with  long-winded 
accounts  of  things  that  may  never  be." 

She  strove  to  excuse  herself.  "  I'm  really  sorry. 
What  you  said  was  very  interesting  —  but  I 
couldn't  quite  follow  you.  It  was  my  fault,  to  be 
sure." 

"  Day  dreaming,  were  you?  "  he  demanded,  with 
an  afl"ectation  of  light-hearted  demeanor  that  was 
remarkably  ill-placed. 

She  gave  him  a  glance  of  regret,  imploring  him 
to  say  no  more.  So  he  turned  to  another  subject 
until  he  could  suitably  take  his  departure. 

She  was  guilty  of  this  absence  of  attention  more 
than  once,  and  he  could  argue  from  it  nothing  but 
that  she  had  lost  heart  in  the  things  he  spoke 
of,  and  cared  nothing  for  meeting  him.  He  was 
sorry  and  gave  himself  a  week  of  bitter  reflec- 
tion over  it.  Then,  feeling  an  absolute  need  for 
her  companionship  in  the  quiet  of  the  station,  he 
called  as  before.  She  was  gracious,  and  more 
attentive ;  and  he  told  himself  that  he  must  have 
been  mistaken  in  his  hasty  judgment,  and  he  con- 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  263 

gratnlated  himself  on  having  given  her  another 
trial. 

He  had  to  confess  to  Lydia,  when  she  asked 
him,  that  he  -syas  not  doing  any  writing.  She  was 
grieved  at  this,  and  wonld  learn  why.  Had  he 
not  done  well  enough  at  the  start  for  encourage- 
ment ? 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  did  well  enough  at  the  start 
—  and  poorly  enough  afterAvard  to  counterbalance 
it.  It's  no  use.  Miss  Gerrish.  I  can't  do  any- 
thing at  it,  much  as  I  would  like  to.  I'm  not  a 
strong  enough  man." 

She  would  not  accept  that  light  estimate  for  an 
instant. 

"  Oh,  it  is  just  as  I  tell  you.  This  is  no  sudden 
veering,  I  want  to  write ;  I  take  more  pride  in 
the  authors  that  have  been  in  my  family  than  in 
any  other  members  of  it,  and  I'd  be  glad  to  follow 
in  their  footsteps — even  at  a  considerable  dis- 
tance," he  added,  with  a  tincture  of  humility,  in 
view  of  his  failure  to  follow  at  all,  "  But  in  the 
army  it  isn't  possible.  There's  no  friendly  atmos- 
phere. I  found  that  out  by  experience,  and  it's 
also  what  Kalph  tells  me," 

"  Do  you  talk  with  Mr.  Ralph  about  these  mat- 
ters?" she  asked,  as  though  jealous  of  another 
who  should  share  their  common  interest,  divide 
with  her  the  knowledge  of  Spurbridge's  aims. 

He  heard  her  with  ears  that  did  not  understand. 
"  Oh,   yes,    a    good   deal.       He    has   been  very 


264  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

friendly  to  me  and  I'm  indebted  to  liim  for  mncli 
good  advice — or  many  good  pointers."  He  made 
a  wry  face.  "  I  don't  like  to  think  of  advice  being 
always  what  I'm  in  search  of." 

She  laughed  j3leasantly.  "  I  shouldn't  expect 
Mr.  Ralph  to  be  a  dealer  in  good  advice,  exactly," 
she  said,  half  inquiringly.  Then  she  gave  her  lips 
a  sudden  slap,  as  of  punishment.  "  There !  I 
should  never  say  anything  of  that  kind !  It  is 
the  worst  thing  one  can  do.  Please  forget  that  I 
said  it." 

"  No,  I  can't  do  that,"  he  said,  amused  at  her 
petulance.  "  I'm  glad  you  said  it,  if  it  will  help 
me  to  set  him  right  before  you.  He  is  as  well 
fitted  to  advise  a  calloAv  youngster — such  as  I  was 
— as  anyone  I  know  of,  because  he  has  seen  lots  of 
life,  and  knows  just  what  sort  of  people  one  meets 
out  here.  He  is  a  fine  man,  Miss  Gerrish,  and 
you  mustn't  let  his  lapses  count  against  him  too 
much,  you  know."  He  gave  a  knowing  laugh,  as 
though  to  indicate  the  degree  of  indulgence  of 
lapses  she  might  safely  entertain. 

"I  know,  I  know,"  she  reiterated.  "Papa 
thinks  he  is  one  of  the  ablest  officers  in  the  regi- 
ment.    I  didn't  mean  anything  that  way." 

"  Oh,  of  course  not."  He  thought  to  himself 
things  would  be  at  a  pretty  pass  when  a  woman 
should  attempt  to  criticise  an  ofiicer  in  his  military 
capacity. 

"  Well,  we  won't  say  anything  more  about  it," 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  265 

she  concluded  ;  and  Spurbridge,  who  had  in  mind 
Ralph's  regard  for  her  and  was  tempted  to  say  a 
good  word  for  him,  was  forced  to  let  the  matter 
drop.  On  second  thought  he  was  rather  glad  of 
this,  for  he  did  not  wish  to  stand  in  the  light  of  a 
John  Alden  to  this  army  Priscilla.  He  did  not 
think  he  rightly  could,  having  no  passion  of  his 
own  to  plead. 

Spurbridge  lingered  in  this  state  of  mental  un- 
rest through  the  winter.  His  talks  with  Ralph 
had  made  him  feel  the  impossibility  of  carrying 
out  any  plan  to  a  certain  point  and  then  abandon- 
ing all  that  might  result  after.  He  saw  that  if  he 
was  to  be  a  soldier  he  must  content  himself  with 
that.  Still,  garrison  idleness  was  distasteful  to 
him,  however  glad  he  might  have  been  to  lounge 
in  a  city  where  something  was  always  going  on ; 
and  the  field,  with  its  blood  and  butcher}',  the 
frozen  truth  of  its  merciless  aim,  was  not  attractive 
enough  to  reconcile  him  to  the  years  in  garrison. 
He  did  not  know  what  to  do.  He  fancied  time 
hung  heavier  than  ever,  since  the  severe  strain  of 
field  duty,  and  that  he  dropjDed  into  fathoms  of 
idleness  before  unsuspected.  He  was  more  genial 
with  his  brother  officers  than  while  he  was  making 
his  literary  attempt,  and  they  fancied  the  campaign 
had  knocked  all  that  foolishness  out  of  him.  In- 
stead of  that,  he  was  bewilderingly  asking  himself 
what  he  should  do  next. 


266  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

His  recourse  in  tliese  seasons  was  Ralph.  That 
officer  was  always  ready  to  listen  to  his  plaint, 
and  to  insert  his  caustic  wedges  in  the  conversa- 
tion at  opportune  places.  He  said  many  things 
that  rasped  Spurbridge's  feelings,  but  he  was  a 
good  friend ;  perhaps  part  of  his  friendshi23  lay  in 
that  very  feature. 

One  evening,  Spurbridge  found  Ralph  at  his 
book-case,  arranging  new  books  that  had  just 
come  in.  The  wrappers  and  binding  cord  lay 
about  the  floor,  but  the  books  were  piled  Avitli 
proper  care,  pending  their  disposition  on  the 
shelves.  He  looked  up  as  one  does  when  inter- 
rupted at  some  labor  that  is  dear,  but  seeing  SjDur- 
bridge,  greeted  him  as  cordially  as  ever. 

"  Halloo  !  "  he  shouted.  "  Come  right  in,  old 
man.  Walk  on  the  floor  anywhere  you  want  to — 
but  keep  off  the  books !  "  He  hung  over  them  with 
an  exaggerated  air  of  protection  that  showed  his 
pride  and  joy  in  their  possession  clearly  enough. 

Spurbridge  walked  across  the  room  and  glow- 
ered down  upon  them.  "  AVell,  you've  been  lay- 
ing in  a  stack  of  them,"  he  volunteered.  "  It'll 
amount  to  something  when  you  move — your  excess 
baggage  will." 

"  It's  worth  all  the  excess  the^^'U  get  out  of  me," 
said  Ralph,  undismayed,  "  and  that  will  be  mighty 
little.  Don't  you  know  that  all  professional  books 
are  transported  free?  And  do  you  suppose  an 
army  officer's  going  to  spend  his  rare  shekels  on 


OJi  THE  OFFENSIVE  267 

any  other  kind  ?  Stand  out  of  the  way  o'  me  and 
my  books !  "  He  picked  them  up  and  stood  them 
in  their  selected  spaces  with  a  careful  touch,  and 
then  regarded  their  backs  with  delight. 

"  Books  cost  a  lot,"  said  Spurbridge,  with  an  air 
of  discouragement. 

"  Naturally ;  they're  worth  a  lot,"  Ealph  re- 
turned. "  What  have  you  got  it  in  so  for  books 
to-night  for,  anyway  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Oh,  books  are  all  right.  They're  pretty  bulky 
things  for  an  officer  to  be  packing  all  over  the 
country,  though.  If  a  fellow  was  settled  a  library 
should  be  the  first  consideration,  of  course." 

"  I  wouldn't  make  any  distinction  between  being 
settled  and  not  being  settled,  if  I  were  you ;  we 
never  can  fix  up  a  permanent  home,  any\\'ay.  And 
probably  books  are  Avorth  more  out  here  than  back 
east,  where  they  are  more  easily  got." 

"  Well,  you'll  never  buy  any  more,  after  this 
lot,"  said  Spurbridge. 

Ralph  looked  at  his  shelves  critically.  "  Y-e-e-s, 
I  will,"  he  said.  "  These  will  last  a  while,  though. 
Having  just  come  off  one  campaign,  I  think  I  am 
justified  in  looking  forward  to  a  long  spell  of  lei- 
sure, and  as  I  saved  money  in  the  field  I  j^iit  the 
surplus  into  books.  Never  say  now  that  the  cam- 
paign did  nobody  any  good,"  he  concluded,  with  a 
jocose  warning. 

Spurbridge  flirted  his  arm  impatiently.  "I 
wish  I  could  settle  down  to  this  thing  the  way  you 


268  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

do,  Ealj)li,"  he  cried.  "  When  you  get  sick  of  every- 
thing else,  you  can  come  in  here  and  lose  yourself 
between  the  covers  of  a  book,  and  forget  where 
you  are.  You  can  enjoy  this.  Why  can't  I  ?  " 
he  demanded. 

"  Give  it  up.  I'm  not  your  keeper,"  Balph  re- 
joined, lightly.  "  Books  are  innocuous  enough 
until  you  start  in  to  make  them  for  yourself;  I 
never  had  any  curiosity  to  investigate  that  phase 
of  bookishness.  AVhy  don't  you  devote  yourself 
to  some  such  harmless  occupation  as  reading? 
Why  are  you  so  set  on  originating  for  your- 
self ?  " 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  laying  claim  to  such  an  amount  of 
originality,"  said  Spurbridge,  modestly,  yet  feeling 
discreetly  flattered.  "I  wish  I  might.  I  know 
what  I'd  do  then,  sure  enough." 

"  Well,  then  ?  " 

"Why,  I'd  resign,  quicker  ;  and  I'd  do  just  those 
things  that  I  want  to  do,  first  going  where  the  ef- 
fort wouldn't  be  froAvned  upon."  He  spoke  with 
so  much  decision  that  Ral^jli  perceived  the  idea 
had  been  long  with  him.  "Why  not?"  he  con- 
tinued. "  That  man  you  told  me  about — Wallace 
— he  resigned,  and  I  don't  see  but  he  got  the  best 
of  the  bargain.  And  all  the  others  you  have  men- 
tioned. Why,  if  they  had  any  aspirations,  the  first 
function  of  the  army  was  to  knock  them  in  the 
head !  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  to  be  a  good   officer  a  man 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  269 

should   be  fit  for  nothing   else   under   the   sun," 
Kalpli  observed,  sarcastically. 

"  Pretty  much  so  !  "  said  Spurbridge,  to  his 
surprise.  "If  he  is  fit  for  anything  else,  that 
has  to  be  eliminated,  and  if  his  brother  ofiicers 
don't  do  it,  the  War  Department  itself  takes  a 
hand."  He  spoke  with  intense  bitterness,  but 
Ralph  permitted  him  to  go  on,  and  even  encour- 
aged him. 

"You  remember  that  young  fellow  in  the 
Tenth  ?  "  he  added.  "  He  made  a  record  for  brav- 
ery about  as  soon  as  he  gi'aduated ;  he  went 
abroad  and  was  attached  to  some  German  regi- 
ment to  broaden  his  mihtary  knowledge.  He 
came  back,  and  was  so  disgusted  \x\i]i  the  way 
things  were  done  in  our  service  as  compared  with 
the  German,  that  he  wrote  some  articles  about  it, 
and  they  were  published ;  it  was  in  criticism  of 
his  superior  officers,  to  be  sure,  but  I  believe  they 
deserved  it.  Well,  do  you  know  what  was  done  ? 
The  War  Department  turned  in  and  reprimand- 
ed him,  and  forbade  his  writing  further  military 
articles  for  publication." 

"  That  w^as  a  brutal  display  of  authority,"  said 
Balph,  a  cold  light  of  displeasure  in  his  eyes,  as  he 
turned  toward  Spurbridge. 

"  That's  what  it  was,  though  you  don't  mean  it," 
Spurbridge  retorted.  Then  he  stopped  suddenly. 
'■  Oh,  I  didn't  come  in  here  to  pick  a  fuss  !  I'm 
making  an  ass  of  myself,  as  usual.     Does  it  strike 


270  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

you  I  have  a  peculiar  talent  that  way  ?  "  he  asked, 
contritely. 

"  Well,  you  may  not  be  pre-eminent,  but  you 
are  above  the  average,"  Ralph  returned,  with  ju- 
dicial calm. 

"  That's  all  right,"  Spurbridge  accepted  the  re- 
proof. He  sat  silent  for  a  little  time,  while  Ealph 
again  contemplated  his  new  books.  Then  he 
burst  forth  again,  "  Lord  !  I  don't  know  what  to 
do  with  myself  !  " 

"  You  seem  a  little  irritable,"  Ralph  observed, 
swinging  around  toward  him. 

"  I  believe  you." 

"  You  have  a  bad  case  of  displeasure  with  fate," 
Ralph  pursued. 

"Well?"  Spurbridge  snapped. 

"  If  you'll  come  off,  and  talk  like  a  reasonable 
being,  I'll  suggest  something.  If  you  don't,  I 
won't.  It's  a  bad  case  and  requires  a  powerful 
remedy." 

"Oh,  go  on.  Don't  mind  me,"  Spurbridge 
begged. 

Ralph  looked  at  him  as  critically  as  a  physician, 
and  gave  a  diagnosis.  "  Here  you  are,  impatient 
of  your  daily  task,  kicking  because  there's  nothing 
in  the  life,  trying  to  prejudice  yourself  against  it, 
getting  feverish,  all  for  nothing.  And  still  you 
have  the  remedy  in  your  own  hands ;  you  can  do 
as  other  officers  do — as  I  know  you  would  love  to 
— introduce  a  new  element  into  your  life,  new  as- 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  271 

sociations,  new  cares,  and  still  be  as  good  an  offi- 
cer as  ever — perhaps  better." 

"  Just  tell  me  how  to  do  that,"  said  Spurbridge, 
eagerly. 

"  I'm  coming  to  that — I  guess  I've  got  there," 
Ralph  replied.  "  Why  don't  you  just  settle  down 
and  marry  —  or  marry  and  settle  down?"  He 
stopped  and  watched  Spurbridge  through  half- 
closed  eyes,  amusement  and  concern  mingled  on 
his  face. 

Spurbridge  looked  at  him  a  moment  in  indigna- 
tion.    "  Nonsense  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  Ralph  insisted,  calmly. 
"  Why  not,  now  ?  It  makes  a  big  difference,  they 
tell  me.     I  never  tried  it  myself." 

"  Nonsense !  "  Spurbridge  repeated  with  more 
moderate  emphasis. 

"  Do  you  speak  from  experience  ?  "  Ralph 
asked. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  he  growled  in  his  throat.  "  That 
would  never  do  for  me.  I  can't  be  reconciled  to 
the  service  along  that  line.  I've  thought  about  it, 
Ralph,  of  course ;  every  young  fellow  does.  You 
do." 

"Oh,  I  did,"  Ralph  cautiously  admitted,  'Svlien 
I  was  young." 

Spurbridge  smiled  at  the  idea  of  his  being  any- 
thing but  young.  "I  have  thought  about  it,"  he 
reiterated,  "  and  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion — 
never  to  marry."     He   made   the   statement  with 


272  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

such  an  air  of  finality  that  Ralph  took  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth,  and  looked  at  him  in  mute  agony 
of  farewell. 

"Then you're  a  gone  case," he  said,  "and  I  shall 
expect  cards  very  soon." 

"  Oh,  no  joking,  Ralph.  I'm  in  earnest,  and  I've 
thought  it  all  out.  Of  course  I  could  never  marry 
a  girl  unless  I  was  abundantly  satisfied  that  she 
was,  in  family  and  social  position  and  all  that,  just 
everything  she  should  be,  you  know.  I  would 
never  allow  myself  to  love  a  girl  unless  she  was  all 
that.  But  if  I  loved  a  girl,  I  should  have  such  a 
respect  for  her  that  I  could  never  go  about  in- 
quiring into  her  birth  and  circumstances,  as  any 
serious  intentions  would  require.  So,  don't  you 
see,  I  shall  never  permit  myself  to  love  anyone? 
And  so,  of  course,  shall  never  marry  ?  " 

Ralph  preserved  a  straight  face.  His  experience 
at  Indian  councils  stood  him  in  good  stead.  Fi- 
nally he  replied  : 

"  But  of  course  you  would  marry  an  army  girl ; 
and  in  the  army  there  would  be  little  need  of  mak- 
ing inquiry  of  any  sort.  That  is  one  advantage  of 
our  knowing  one  another  so  intimately  all  through 
the  service." 

"  I  have  seen  some  army  girls  I  shouldn't  want 
to  marry,"  said  Spurbridge,  adding,  "but  I'm  not 
saying  I  could,  if  I  wanted  to  ever  so  much.  I've 
had  no  curiosity  to  find  out." 

After  a  little    time   in   silence,   during    which 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  273 

Ealpli's  gaze  wandered  again  to  the  book-case, 
Spiirbridge  langlied  and  said  : 

"  But  that's  a  fine  cnre  for  some  cases — or  it 
might  even  be  taken  where  no  cure  is  sought ! 
Say,  old  man,  why  don't  you  try  it  for  yourself?  " 
He  spoke  in  a  tone  intentionally  jovial,  for  he 
knew  Ealph's  mind,  and  he  would  not  pain  him  by 
needlessly  pressing  the  case. 

But  Kalph  threw  his  hands  behind  his  head,  and 
yawned  to  show  his  lack  of  interest. 

"I  marry?  Oh,  that  isn't  for  me;  that's  for  you 
young  chaps  that  are  just  coming  along.  Leave 
me  alone  with  my  whiskey  and  cards.  They'll 
carry  me  through  after  a  fashion." 

"  Now,  there's  just  the  point,"  said  Spurbridge, 
leaning  forward  impressively.  "No,  I'm  not 
preaching  any  sermon  at  you,"  he  added,  seeing 
Ealph's  frosty  glance.  "You'd  be  happier  that 
way.  Look  at  the  way  you  fix  up  your  quarters 
here — see  your  books !  This  is  the  sort  of  thing 
you  really  care  for — not  that  other." 

"My  dear  fellow,"  Ealph  began,  and  stopped, 
choking  slightly.  Spurbridge  did  not  notice  that, 
for  he  was  pleased  to  have  Ealph  address  him  so 
familiarly.  "My  dear  fellow,"  he  resumed,  "if 
there  had  been  a  girl  I  wanted  to  marry,  a  girl  I 
could  have  married,  when  I  was  at  your  age  and 
had  no  more  service  than  you,  I'd  have  thanked 
the  man  who  would  have  turned  my  feet  in  that 
direction.  For  I  was  going  through  just  about  the 
18 


274  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

same  degree  of  dissatisfaction  that  you  are.  If  I 
had  married  then,  it  would  have  beeu  the — the — 
salvation  of  me.  Yes,  the  salvation ;  that  very 
word !  But  there  wasn't  any  such  luck  on  the 
boards,"  he  continued,  relapsing  into  his  touch  of 
gambler's  idiom,  "  and  after  I  got  tired  of  being 
dissatisfied,  I  went  where  I  saw  most  oi  the  older 
officers.  And  now  I  can  hold  as  much  whiskey  as 
the  best  of  them !  And  I  can  play  a  poker  hand  to 
beat  anybody  in  the  garrison !  But  you  needn't 
think  for  a  little  minute  that  there's  any  great  sat- 
isfaction in  it.  It  isn't  worth  what  it's  cost  me  to 
learn." 

"  I  reckon  not,"  said  Spurbridge,  with  a  thought 
of  liquor  bills  and  poker  debts. 

"  And  I  don't  mean  *  worth '  in  any  financial 
sense,"  Ralph  went  on.  Spurbridge  cocked  his 
head  inquiringly.  "  I  mean  in  a  mental,  and  a 
moral,  and  a  physical  sense.  I  mean  in  all  that 
goes  to  make  a  man  what  he  should  be.  You 
thought  I  didn't  mean  it  a  while  ago,  when  I  said 
that  an  officer  should  be  fit  for  soldiering,  and 
nothing  else  ;  Avell,  I  didn't  mean  it  then,  but  I'll 
own  up  to  a  grain  of  truth  in  it  now  !  I'm  a  good 
officer !  I'm  not  boasting  when  I  say  it.  I  know 
it  because  I  am  given  important  details,  and  be- 
cause other  officers  like  my  opinions,  and  because 
the  colonel  relies  on  me.  I  am  a  good  officer — 
but  as  true  as  death  I'm  not  fit  for  anything  else ! 
I  show  up  all  right  on  parade  and  in  the  field ;  I'm 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  275 

a  soldier  and  a  success,  so  far  as  a  soldier  can  be  a 
success  in  these  times.  Yet  if  I  tried  to  do  any- 
thing but  soldier,  you'd  see  the  most  melancholy 
failure  of  the  centur}" !  " 

"  I'm  mighty  sorry "  Spurbridge  began,  but 

Ralph  checked  him  with  a  wave  of  the  hand. 

"When  you  showed  an  inclination  to  take  up 
some  employment  instead  of  accepting  existing 
conditions  out  of  hand,  I  was  glad.  I  hoped  you 
would  do  it,  would  succeed.  I  knew  of  no  one 
that  had  ever  made  a  success  of  that  sort  of  thing, 
but  I  wanted  you  to  try  it.  I  thought  you  had 
common  sense,  and  more  than  common  pluck  to 
undertake  it.  Well,  you  tried  it,  and  you  couldn't 
make  a  go  of  it." 

"  That's  so,  and  I'm  mighty  sorry  you  were  dis- 
appointed in  me." 

"  I  wasn't  disappointed  in  you,"  Ealph  returned. 
"  I  have  just  as  much  faith  in  you  now  as  before. 
What  you  tried  was  an  impossibility ;  I  thought  so 
then,  but  I  didn't  know;  I'm  satisfied  of  it  now. 
Not  because  you  fail  in  application,  but  because 
the  army  is  irrevocably  opposed  to  that  sort  of 
thing.  Well,  you  are  none  the  worse  off  for  hav- 
ing tried.  In  short,  you  should  find  a  certain  sat- 
isfaction in  the  experiment." 

"  Well,  I  do,"  Spurbridge  declared. 

"  That's  all  right,  then.  But  you  see  salvation 
doesn't  lie  that  way,  don't  you  ?  I'm  telling  you 
all  this  because  I've  been  there,  and  knov.' !     But 


27G  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

the  rest  of  the  way  is  worse,  for  you.  That's  -why 
I  ventured  to  speak  about  that — that  other  methoil, 
you  know.  Of  course,  you  are  not  going  in  for 
marriage  with  the  idea  of  saving  yourself  from  a 
life  of  tempestuous  idleness — though  that  is  what 
you  would  accomplish.  No  fellow  has  a  right  to 
speak  to  another  on  that  subject  unbidden.  I  ho^De 
you'll  overlook  my  ardor  in  the  case  ?  ''  he  asked, 
half  quizzically. 

Spui-bridge  simply  reached  out  and  grasped  his 
hand,  as  it  hung  over  the  arm  of  the  chair.  And 
he  looked  at  him  in  a  way  that  brought  a  deepen- 
ing color  under  the  tanned  surface  of  Halph's  face. 

"  No,"  said  Ealph,  "  never.  AVlien  I  was  Avhere 
you  are,  I  might  have,  if  I  had  known  enough  and 
had  the  chance.  But  I'm  too  far  along  now  ;  '  the 
world  is  in  a  manner  over,  and  the  earth  is  ashes.' 
And  I  have  lots  of  company  on  my  own  j^ath  up 
to  an  ultimate  colonelcy.  We'll  let  it  go  at  that." 
The  thin  ghost  of  a  smile  fluttered  about  his  lips 
in  recognition  of  the  ghost  of  a  life  to  which  he 
was  looking  forward.  "  It's  not  so  bad  but  what 
it  might  be  worse.  The  only  thing  is,  I  hope  you 
see  the  difference."  He  came  to  a  full  stop,  re- 
turned the  pressure  of  Spurbridge's  grasp,  and 
threw  off  his  hand  as  though  the  mere  weight  of 
it  was  too  much  to  be  borne. 

"  I  see,"  Spurbridge  said,  softly.  "  She  doesn't 
know  ?  " 

"  I   hope   not,"   Ealph   replied,    fervently.     "  I 


ON   THE  OFFENSIVE  277 

liave  never  said  a  word  of  it  to  her — have  tried  to 
keep  it  from  her.  She's  too  far  above  me  to  have 
any  other  emotion  than  pity,  so  far  as  I'm  concerned 
— and,  good  God  !     I  don't  want  her  to  pity  me  !  " 

Spurbridge  could  make  no  answer  to  this,  for 
Ealph's  Avords  served  but  to  bring  him  to  a  sense 
of  what  Lydia  might  be  to  himself.  He  was  not 
intending  to  think  of  her  in  that  way  ;  he  had 
been  sincere  in  his  statement  to  Ralph ;  his  scheme 
of  life  had  been  packed  too  full  to  admit  of  mar- 
riage, except  as  a  consideration  when  worthier  am- 
bitions should  be  consummated.  He  put  her  away 
resolutely  from  his  thoughts.  It  was  almost  a 
dishonor  to  entertain  such  thoughts  of  her  while 
Ralph  sat  there,  worn  and  moody,  in  his  renun- 
ciation of  all  effort  to  win  her  to  himself. 

"Well!"  Spurbridge  ejaculated,  presently,  "I 
suppose  you  know  yourself  pretty  well,  or  you 
wouldn't  voice  those  sentiments  ?  "  Ralph  nodded. 
"  I  can't  see,  though,  that  I  should  follow  your  ad- 
vice,' even  for  the  best  girl  who  ever  lived — and 
who  is  doubtless  in  this  regiment " 

"  She  is !  " 

"  There's  another  way  out  of  it  for  me — a  good 
way,  and  it's  been  on  my  mind  for  some  time.  I 
believe  I  shall  put  it  in  practice."  He  hesitated  a 
moment.     "  I  can  resign." 

Ralph  swimg  around  wearily  in  his  chair.  The 
silence  was  oppressive  as  he  waited,  for  the  meas- 
ure was  not  one  to  be  considered  lightly. 


278  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  I  wouldn't  do  it,"  he  said,  after  a  long  pause. 
"  It  doesn't  look  well,  someliow,  for  officers  to 
be  resigning.  It's  a  kind  of  reflection  on  the  ser- 
vice. And  you  can  understand  it's  the  service  be- 
fore anything  else  with  me,  now." 

"Yes,  I  know  that,"  Spin-bridge  replied,  "but  it 
might  be  worse,  not  only  for  me  but  for  the  ser- 
vice, if  I  remained.  If  you're  going  to  look  at  it 
from  that  side,  that's  the  phase  to  consider." 

"  Ah,  I  was  too  egotistical  when  I  spoke,"  said 
Ralpli,  quickly,  "  I  forgot  that  the  eyes  of  the 
world  are  not  upon  each  one  of  us  continually. 
One  sometimes  gets  the  idea  that  they  are.  The 
pursuit  of  military  glory  is  not  often  conducted  in 
solitude,"  he  added,  reflectively.  "  If  you  are  so 
at  outs  with  the  service,  then  the  course  you  men- 
tion is  the  only  one  open  to  you.  No  man  of 
honor  could  do  anything  else.  When  I  said 
'  don't  do  it,'  my  objection  was  purely  personal. 
I  hate  to  lose  you  for  my  own  sake." 

"  I  could  go  out  with  a  cleaner  conscience  if  I 
knew  the  officers  felt  that  way  about  it,"  said 
Spurbridge,  earnestly,  "  I  don't  believe  I  shall 
ever  be  satisfied  with  the  service.  It  isn't  suffi- 
cient ;  it  doesn't  touch  the  core  of  my  desire. 
And  I  believe  I  shall  be  a  better  citizen  of  the  re- 
public if  I  get  right  out  and  earn  my  living  as  a 
civilian,  than  if  I  drag  along  in  the  army  simply 
for  the  sake  of  the  pay." 

Ealpli  raised  his  hand    deprecatingly.     "  Don't 


ON  TUE  OFFENSIVE  279 

do  that !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  Yon  couldn't  have  a 
worse  reason  for  staying  in  the  army  than  the  mis- 
erable stipend  that  attaches.  And  if  it's  a  career 
you're  after,  you  can  take  my  word  in  addition  to 
your  own  experience,  that  the  army  offers  little 
but  a  chance  for  conspicuous  failure." 

"  We  don't  need  to  talk  of  that,  we  know  it  so 
well,"  said  Spurbridge.  He  was  standing  up,  em- 
phasizing his  firmness  of  purpose  by  his  erect  at- 
titude. "  I  came  in  here  to-night  to  tell  you  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  on  the  matter  of  resigning 
— that  is,  I  guess  I  did,"  he  added,  Avith  an  em- 
barrassed laugh.  "  I  didu't  have  it  formulated — 
but  I  see  it  now.  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  I  am 
going  to  resign." 

"  What  shall  you  do  ?  "  Kalph  asked.  "  ^Tiere 
shall  you  go  ?  There  is  no  profession  for  which 
you  are  fitted.  You  have  been  trained  for  a  sol- 
dier, and  not  a  civilian." 

"  I  know,  but  I  can  make  some  kind  of  an  ap- 
plication of  the  principles  I  have  learned.  Oh,  I 
have  a  shot  or  two  in  my  locker,"  he  added,  know- 
ingly. "  Yes,  it  will  be  all  right.  I  have  written 
some  letters  about  it.  Mother  is  glad  to  have  me 
resign.  She  is  alone  now,  back  there  in  New  York, 
It's  worth  all  the  risk  to  get  back  to  civilization, 
and  be  with  her.  Don't  you  worry.  I  ought  to 
do  something,  I  believe,  when  I  get  iuto  that  good 
eastern  environment." 

"  Well,  there's  only  this  about  it,"  said  Ealph. 


280  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  you  ever  come  knockiDg  at 
the  door  of  the  army  for  readmission.  Some  do 
that,  you  know — make  the  attempt  in  civil  life, 
find  it  isn't  all  their  fancy  painted,  give  up,  and 
come  back — that  is,  if  they  can." 

"  That's  hardly  my  style,  Ralph,"  Spurbridge 
replied,  with  some  acerbity.  "I  shall  not  come 
back  to  take  a  reduced  rank  as  a  mark  of  favor." 
He  was  still  strong  in  the  belief  that  the  world  was 
his  and  waiting  to  be  claimed.  "  I  shall  succeed, 
Kalph  ;  that's  what  I'm  going  out  for  !  " 

"  It  will  be  pleasanter  than  staying  in  these 
wild  places.  Heigho  !  Well,  I  have  m}^  books  to 
supplement  the  usual  resources,  and  shall  get 
along  somehow.  Going  ?  "  he  added  a  moment 
later,  as  Spurbridge  rose  and  made  a  movement  to- 
ward the  door. 

"  Yes,  I  must.  You  will  have  a  chance  before 
you  sleep  to  get  acquainted  with  the  covers  of 
your  new  books." 

"  Oh,  there's  time  enough  for  that !  "  Kalph 
shouted  after  him.  And  Spurbridge  went  to  his 
quarters  and  penned  his  renunciation  of  the  fleet- 
ing glories  of  the  soldier's  life. 


XII 

He  felt  no  misgivings  as  he  Avrote  it  out,  nor 
even  the  next  morning  when  he  took  it  to  his  cap- 
tain for  transmittal  through  the  usual  military 
channels.  He  was  a  little  surprised  at  this,  for  he 
had  anticipated  a  certain  regret ;  instead,  he  was 
elated.  For  one  thing,  he  had  no  ties  to  sever 
but  those  of  personal  friendships ;  and,  realizing 
that  separation  is  the  order  of  nature  as  we  shut- 
tle back  and  forth  upon  this  bullet's  surface,  he 
could  steel  his  heart  against  undue  emotion  on 
that  score.  He  was  glad  to  have  taken  this  deci- 
sive step  ;  he  had  been  impelled  to  it  from  A^ithin, 
and  had  been  congratulated  on  his  determination 
by  his  mother  and  the  few  others  whose  opinion 
he  held  in  esteem.  And  so  he  watched  the  paper 
he  had  written  slip  along  the  official  groove  Avith  a 
little  smile,  and  turned  his  face  expectantly  toward 
the  pleasant  possibilities  of  the  change. 

His  resignation  created  a  stir  in  the  regiment. 
Resignations  without  cause — simply  through  pref- 
erence—  were  so  uncommon  that  each  was  in- 
vested with  the  interest  of  a  fateful  move  in  which 


282  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

all  shared.  At  first,  some  jeered  at  the  tliouglit  of 
quitting  the  army  for  anything  under  the  sun,  and 
quoted  the  cases  of  luckless  ones  who  had  tried  it 
and  come  to  grief.  They  took  an  actual  pride  in 
asserting  that  the  army  unfitted  one  for  civil  em- 
ployments, and  forecast  disaster  for  Spurbiidge,  as 
though  they  thought  it  merited  by  the  audacity  of 
his  step. 

"  Mr.  Spurbridge  has  resigned — submitted  the 
papers  this  morning,"  said  Lawrence,  Avhen  he 
went  to  his  cjuarters  after  guard-mount.  It  was 
news  of  importance. 

"  Why  ?  "  Mrs.  Lawrence  asked,  running  over 
in  her  mind  a  list  of  offences  that  an  officer  might 
commit,  and  that  would  be  likely  to  resvilt  in  this 
way. 

"  Because  he  don't  like  the  army.  Thinks  he's 
going  to  carve  a  name  for  himself  in  the  East." 

"Well,  I  hope  he  will  succeed,"  she  said,  chari- 
tably. She  thought  for  a  moment  of  the  possibili- 
ties, thought  of  the  advantages  of  the  Eastern  life 
to  which  she  had  been  accustomed  until  she  met 
Lawrence.  "  I'm  sure  he  deserves  to,"  she  added, 
with  a  little  sigh. 

"  AVhy  ?     For  resigning  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Fred,  you  know  if  a  man  has  any  go  to 
him  life  is  worth  more  there  than  here.  You 
know  the  army  makes  one  vegetate — unless  one  is 
an  excei)tional  man,"  she  added,  fondly, 

"  You're  not  going  back  on  the  army,  are  you, 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  2S3 

little  woman  ? "  lie  asked,  coming  very  close  to 
lier,  and  with  a  touch  of  concern  in  his  voice. 

She  looked  up  at  him  bravely.  "  No,  Fred.  I 
like  it — and  I  have  you  " — she  got  hold  of  his 
hand  and  wouldn't  let  go — "  and  there  is  your 
splendid  record.  The  army  is  good  to  us.  But 
there  are  the  boys,  Fred.  Wliatever  shall  we  do 
with  them  ?  They  can  have  no  advantages  of 
school  and  of  companionship  as  they  grow  up." 

"  We  shall  have  to  send  them  away  to  school  as 
soon  as  ever  they  are  old  enough,  I  suppose,"  he 
said.  She  shrank  from  the  suggestion  of  losing 
sight  of  them,  and  shook  her  head  decidedly. 
"  Well,  we'll  get  along  somehow,"  he  reassured 
her.     "  We'll  do  the  best  we  can." 

"  Yes,  that  is  always  the  army  way,"  she  mur- 
mured, pleased.  Yet  she  could  not  easily  cast  off 
doubt  for  their  future.  "  But  growing  up  among 
soldiers  and  seeing  no  other  people  at  all  will  give 
them  a  very  narrow  view.  I  want  them  to-be 
broad  and  unprejudiced.  If  they  know  nothing 
but  the  army,  that  is  all  they  will  be  fit  for." 

"  Well,  if  they  are  fit  for  that,  why  not  let  them 
be  soldiers  ?  "  he  asked,  lightly.  "  I  dare  say  they 
could  hustle  around  and  get  a  commission  apiece." 

"  Would  you  like  them  to,  Fred  ?  " 

Then  he  consented  to  look  at  the  matter  seri- 
ously. He  knew  the  binding,  constrictive  element 
of  the  army,  and  the  narrowness  of  life  it  offered  ; 
and  he  thought  of  the  broader  field  for  usefulness 


284  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

and  honor  that  might  be  found  elsewhere.  He 
was  loyal  to  the  army,  but  he  recognized  the 
wealth  of  opportunities  outside  it.  "  The  army  is 
all  right,"  he  said,  stoutly.  "  It's  good  enough  for 
me.  But — I  slioidd  rather  see  the  boys  take  hold 
of  something  else.  There's  too  much  personal  risk 
and  too  little  personal  gain  in  this." 

Spurbridge  was  surprised  by  the  calls  he  re- 
ceived from  the  sedate  old  officers  of  the  regiment 
in  the  days  that  followed  the  submitting  of  his 
resignation. 

The  major  of  the  regiment,  red-faced  and  pon- 
derous, laboriously  swung  himself  into  his  quar- 
ters, and  sat  down  to  look  upon  him. 

"  So  you're  going  to  leave  us,  are  you  ?  "  he  de- 
manded, after  a  searching  gaze. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  believe  so." 

The  major  breathed  heavily.  "  Well,  it's  a  good 
thing — for  you."  Then  he  became  retrospective, 
and  spoke  of  his  past  as  an  officer  will  seldom  do. 

"  I've  often  thought  my  life  was  wasted  in  the 
army,"  he  said.  "  I  haven't  amounted  to  any- 
thing. There  was  a  time,  right  after  the  war, 
when  I  went  home  and  the  citizens  gave  me  a  re- 
ception on  account  of  my  services.  I  was  offered 
the  presidency  of  a  bank  in  that  little  city — it's  a 
big  city  now  ;  but  while  I  hesitated  over  it,  a  lieu- 
tenant's commission  in  the  regular  establishment 
was  held  out,  and  being  young  and  full  of  oats,  I 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  2S5 

took  it.  Heiglio !  Why,  I  might  be  the  presi- 
dent of  that  bank  to-day,  if  I  had  stayed  there, 
and  brought  up  my  family  in  pleasant  surround- 
ings, and  enjoyed  life.  Instead  of  that,  I've  been 
knocking  around  the  frontier  in  the  worst  holes 
I  could  find  all  my  days,  until  now  I  don't  feel 
like  knocking  round ;  but  I  have  to  do  it,  and  I 
■haven't  got  anything  to  show  for  it." 

"  You  have  a  fine  record.  Major." 

"  Oh,  bosh,  yes  ;  but  that's  all.  I'm  as  poor  as  a 
rat,  and  when  my  wife  wants  to  see  her  people 
back  East  we  have  to  start  in  and  save  money  for 
the  trip  months  beforehand.  And  my  children 
haven't  had  any  advantages,  and  that's  my  fault, 
too.  No  ;  it  is  good,  the  army,  but  it  doesn't  atone 
for  what  might  have  been." 

Another  officer,  a  rheumatic  captain,  came  and 
smoked  with  him  an  hour  before  he  said  a  word. 
Then  he  burst  forth  : 

"  I  like  your  pluck,  Spurbridge ;  I  swear  I  do. 
It  takes  sand  for  a  man  to  fling  away  a  certainty 
like  you  are  doing,  for  the  chances  of  civil  life. 
You  are  doing  it  at  the  right  time,  though;  if  a 
fellow  is  going  to  resign  he  ought  to  do  it  before 
he  gets  into  the  rut.  Then  he  simply  can't  get 
away  from  it.  Yes,  you're  doing  the  right  thing, 
and  blame  me  if  I  don't  envy  you !  If  I  were  in 
your  place  I'd  do  so  too  ! 

"  If  I  hadn't  gone  into  the  army  from  the  volun- 
teers," he  continued,  "  I  might  have  had  my  farm, 


2SG  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

back  in  Illinois,  all  clear  of  debt ;  I  could  have  had 
my  father  and  mother  Avith  me  in  their  last  years  ; 
my  children  could  have  had  a  chance  in  the  public 
schools — and  that  would  have  been  a  life  worth 
living  !  But  I  took  the  army,  and  then  I  got  mar- 
ried, and  the  children  began  coming.  I  couldn't 
resign  then,  because  they  were  dependent  on  me ; 
but  it  was  right  then  that  I  began  to  wish  I  w^as 
out  of  it,  and  back  there  on  the  farm !  And  I 
haven't  quit  wishing  so  yet.  But  here  I  am,  mak- 
ing my  wife  live  in  desolate  places,  turning  myself 
into  a  beer-tank,  and  every  month's  pay  is  used 
for  living  expenses  before  I  can  get  round  to  draw 
it !  I'm  glad  to  see  your  grit,  Spurbridge,  and  I 
shall  keep  watch  of  you  to  see  you  succeed.  I'm 
sure  you  will !  " 

Such  confidences  as  these  gave  Spurbridge  food 
for  much  thought.  He  had  expected  to  have  his 
act  censured ;  but  these  admissions  made  him 
wonder  how  large  a  percentage  of  officers  there 
might  be  staying  in  the  army  simply  because  they 
did  not  dare  get  out  of  it,  trembling  at  the  thought 
of  being  dependent  on  their  own  exertions  for  a 
livelihood.  He  did  not  think  any  worse  of  them 
for  it ;  he  only  pitied  them.  They  were  bound 
hand  and  foot  by  long  usage  to  army  customs, 
and  could  not  free  themselves  ;  and  they  were  re- 
strained from  a  free  exercise  of  such  powers  as 
they  might  have  possessed  by  a  sense  of  duty  to 
their  families.     He  wondered  if  he  was  going  to 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  287 

find  much  of  that  in  civil  Hfe — of  men  following 
trades  and  professions  of  which  they  were  sick, 
merely  because  they  dared  not  break  free,  because 
there  were  children  dependent  on  them  for  food. 
He  did  not  know  ;  and  yet,  with  the  experience  of 
added  years,  he  was  very  sure  to  declare  this  a 
general  law — that  discontent  is  almost  sure  to  fol- 
low the  wearing  off  of  novelty—  that  it  is  the  con- 
stant companion  of  monotony — and  that  the  sole 
advantage  in  this  regard,  of  civil  life  over  the  mili- 
tary, lies  in  the  Avider  opportunity  for  recreation, 
for  moments  when  one  can  forget  one's  self  and 
cares  amid  ncAv  conditions  and  surroundings.  He 
did  not  know  this.  He  remained  restlessly  at  the 
Fort,  counting  the  days  that  must  elapse  before  he 
could  be  free.  He  was  a  prisoner  looking  forward 
to  the  expiration  of  his  term.  Spring  was  coming 
to  the  earth,  and  it  should  mean  to  him  the  begin- 
ning of  a  new  life. 

When  he  met  Lydia  during  those  days  it  was 
with  a  feeling  that  an  intangible  barrier  had  been 
erected  between  them  by  his  resignation.  He 
thought  he  detected  in  her  eyes  a  look  of  re- 
proach ;  and  it  was  difficult  to  attain  the  same  de- 
gree of  confidence  and  familiarity  in  their  conver- 
sations as  formerly.  He  felt  a  little  guilty,  as  if 
it  were  a  crime  to  resign,  and  she  could  not  con- 
done it. 

"  You  will  be  going  away  soon,  now?  "  she  said. 


288  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

one  clay.  Talking  had  become  difficult,  yet  it  was 
necessary  to  say  something. 

"  Yery  soon,  now,"  he  repeated,  apologetically. 

"  How  long  a  leave  do  you  expect  ?  "  she  then 
asked  him. 

"  Oh,  not  a  long  one  at  all.  I  haven't  beeii  in 
long  enough  to  entitle  me  to  any.  Besides,  it 
isn't  absence  on  x^ay  that  I  am  seeking,  you  know," 
he  explamed,  interrogatively. 

"  No,"  she  acquiesced. 

An  awkward  little  silence  ensued,  which  she 
broke. 

"  You'll  really  be  where  peoj)le  do  things,  won't 
you  ?  " 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  slowly.  "I  shall  be  in  the 
very  midst  of  life." 

"  And  people  striving  to  make  names  for  them- 
selves, and  all  brisk  with  competition  in  eveiy 
art.     Oh,  how  stirring  that  will  be  !  " 

"  It  will  keep  one  awake  daytimes,  I  fancy," 
he  observed.  "  I  shan't  feel  like  sleeping  while 
the  world  is  moving  on  there,  I  believe." 

"No,  indeed,  and  it  will  be  better  so.  Of 
course  we  are  all  sorry  to  have  you  leave  the  regi- 



"Please  except  those  who  gain  a  file  on  me," 
he  said. 

"  Oh,  you  can  afford  that.  It  will  be  life  itself 
with  you.     You  will  act,  not  look  on." 

"That  Avill  be  an  improvement,"  he  murmured. 


ON  THE  OFFENSIVE  289 

"  Perhaps  some  time  jou  will  meet  some  of  tlio 
girls  I  used  to  be  with  in  school,"  she  reflected. 
"  Many  of  them  are  there,  and  they  are  trying 
to  accomplish  something  for  themselves.  Oh,  I 
think  that  is  much  better  than  to  sit  down  and 
have  everything  brought  to  you  !  " 

"  That  is  what  you  would  have  done  had  you 
been  placed  outside  the  army  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  indeed !  "  she  replied,  with  strong  em- 
phasis, "  But,  you  see,  I  happen  to  be  in  the 
army — and  I  don't  have  your  privilege  of  resign- 
ing." She  laughed  a  little  to  carry  off  whatever 
savor  of  dissatisfaction  there  might  have  been  in 
her  words. 

"  N-o-o,"  he  drawled.  He  somehow  thought  of 
Ralph,  who  was  also  irrevocably  welded  to  the 
army.  From  Ealpli  his  thoughts  flew  to  her,  and 
then  back  to  the  last  confidential  talk  with  Ralph. 

"Miss  Gerrish,"  he  spoke  suddenly,  and  she 
looked  up,  a  little  startled  ;  "  this  is  something 
of  an  experiment,  though  not  as  much  so  as  the 
work  I  tried  to  do  here  in  the  army,  and  which 
you  helped  me  with  so  much.  That  has,  in  a  way, 
led  up  to  this.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  thank  you  for 
making  me  resign."  He  spoke  lightly,  but  his 
eyes  were  serious,  and  real  emotion  trembled  at 
his  heart. 

"  Oh,  don't  blame  vie  !  "  she  cried.  "  I  have  told 
you  how  sorry  we  all  are  to  have  you  go." 

"  Thank,  not  blame,"  he  insisted.  "  I  may  not 
19 


290  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

sncceecl  in  tliis,  although  I  expect  and  intend  to. 
But,  anyway — Miss  Lydia — I  wish  you'd  let  me 
keep  you  informed.  Not  that  it  will  interest  you — 
perhaps — but  that  it  will  help  me.  Let  me  Avrite 
you  how  I  get  on — and  if  you  will  answer  my  let- 
ters  "     He  paused  eloquently,  and  looked   at 

her.  She  did  not  seem  to  regard  liis  supplication 
favorably. 

"  You  know  you  wrote  to  mother  for  me  when  I 
didn't  have  time,"  he  added,  persuasively.  "  She 
thought  that  was  very  kind  of  you.  She  oftcn^ 
mentions  you  in  her  letters  to  me  now." 

"  She  wrote  to  me,  too,"  Lydia  reflected,  visibly 
touched  by  the  memory. 

"  Yes,  I  know.  Well,  now,  aren't  3'ou  willing 
to  continue  your  kindness  a  little  ?  I  shan't 
bother  you  much  if  I  fail — I  promise  you  that. 
But  if  I  succeed — as  I  will !     I  shall  write  you 

often Lydia,"  he   lowered   his  voice,    "  you 

will  do  this  for  me  now  ?     It  doesn't  mean  much 

unless  I  succeed — but  if  I  do Tell  me  you 

will  ?  "  he  implored. 

She  looked  up  at  him  and  smiled  reassuringly, 
though  her  eyes  were  moist.  "  Yes,"  she  said 
gently.  And  then  he  felt  a  sudden  exaltation  of 
purpose,  as  though  an  angel  had  looked  upon  him, 
and  had  sanctioned  his  undertaking  with  that  one 
word. 


XIII 

The  company  that  maintained  the  stage  line  be- 
tween the  little  town  under  the  lee  of  the  Fort 
and  the  outside  world  was  accustomed,  in  its 
pomp  of  power,  to  start  the  stage  on  the  tri-week- 
ly  outward  trip  at  two  o'clock  of  the  morning ; 
then  they  made  desirable  connection  with  railway 
trains,  provided  no  interference  from  highwaymen 
was  experienced  on  the  road.  In  view  of  this  un- 
alterable practice  of  the  stage  company,  a  custom 
had  taken  root  among  the  officers,  whenever  any 
of  their  number  were  going  away,  of  sitting  up 
with  them  until  the  stage  started,  giving  them  one 
grand,  exuberant  owling,  to  remain  in  the  memory 
as  a  reckoning  point  of  time. 

When  the  date  of  Spurbridge's  departure  had 
been  finally  determined,  the  officers  made  an  ex- 
traordinary effort  to  render  the  occasion  nota- 
ble— as  if  he  would  ever  need  any  assistance  in 
remembering  the  day !  Ealph's  quarters  were 
fixed  upon  as  the  most  suitable  for  the  purpose, 
inasmuch  as  Ralpli  had  a  larger  assortment  of 
drinking  glasses  in  suitable  shapes  and  sizes  than 
any   other  bachelor   officer,    and    less   borrowing 


292  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

from  the  First  and  Last  Chance  was  thus  necessi- 
tated. And  as  night  fell,  enwrapping  all  their 
little  world  in  clouds,  they  began  to  gather  at 
Ealph's,  where  the  light  streamed  from  the  win- 
dows and  the  constantly  opening  door  in  a  wel- 
coming Avay. 

Everybody  was  there,  of  the  officers.  Colonel 
Gerrish  departed  from  liis  usual  custom  of  refus- 
ing to  notice  these  events,  and  came  in  early  for 
a  single  glass  to  the  success  of  the  young  adven- 
turer, as  he  facetiously  styled  Spurbridge.  After 
that  he  went  away,  and  the  rooms  fast  became 
cloudy  with  tobacco-smoke,  and  lively  with  the 
popping  of  corks  and  the  quick  laughter  of  jolly 
comrades.  The  gray  old  surgeon  was  there,  re- 
newing his  youth  in  a  way  that  it  did  them  all 
good  to  see  ;  the  major  and  all  the  captains  lined 
up  against  the  wi^ll  according  to  rank,  and  sang 
the  regimental  songs  vociferously ;  and  even  the 
contract  surgeon,  a  young  civilian  doctor  who 
felt  that  the  word  "  contract,"  as  applied  to  him, 
was  a  reproach  and  a  sneer,  became  vinously  cour- 
ageous and  assured  Spurbridge,  with  a  thump  be- 
tween the  shoulders,  that  he  was  a  devilish  fine 
chap  to  resign  ;  that  civil  life  was  the  thing,  after 

all ;  and   that    for  himself  he   should  be    d 

D D glad  when  his  contract  with  the  Gov- 
ernment should  expire  and  he  could  get  back  to  a 
decent  practice  in  the  glorious  East.  He  had 
taken  the  contract  for  the  sake  of   the  practical 


OJy  THE   OFFENSIVE  293 

work  in  surgery,  and  was  enraged  to  state  that  in 
six  months  he  had  done  no  more  than  amputate  a 
crushed  finger. 

While  all  were  cheerfully  under  the  influence  of 
liquor,  no  one  sought  to  test  the  charity  of  the 
gathering  by  becoming  unnecessarily  drunk.  Some 
kept  their  heads  better  than  usual ;  and  Ralph  and 
Spurbridge  were  noticeable  as  taking  almost  noth- 
ing at  all.  Ralph  was  too  much  occupied  over 
the  change  that  was  coming  for  the  young  fellow 
in  whom  he  had  such  an  interest  to  care  for  any- 
thing else,  and  Spurbridge  had  not  been  long 
enough  with  them  to  learn  to  hold  up  his  end 
properly.  One  ruddy  captain  nearly  fell  upon  his 
neck  in  tears  to  reflect  that,  now  he  was  going  into 
civil  life,  he  never  would  have  a  chance  to  properly 
cultivate  the  drinking  habit. 

So  the  night  passed  away  with  the  tinkle  of 
glasses  and  the  repeated  grind  of  hoarse  joke  and 
laughter.  And  then  the  sound  of  wheels  was  heard 
without  on  the  gravel,  and  Ralph,  looking  out, 
said  the  stage  was  at  the  door.  What,  already ! 
It  surely  wasn't  two  yet !  When  convinced  that 
it  was,  they  Avere  sm-prised  to  find  how  much 
they  had  enjoyed  the  evening.  And  they  shook 
hands  with  Spurbridge  and  wished  him  the  things 
that  are  wished  on  the  eve  of  memorable  events ; 
and  they  scattered,  each  to  his  own  quarters. 

Ralph  went  to  the  door  of  the  coach  with  Spur- 
bridge, a  little  away  from  the  crowd  that  content- 


294  ON  TUB  OFFENSIVE 

ed  itself  with  the  porch.  In  the  darkness  they 
grasped  each  other's  hands. 

"  Good-by  ;  good  kick,"  said  Ealph,  huskily. 

"  I  won't  say  that  to  you,  Ealph,"  said  Spur- 
bridge.     "  I'll  say  more — God  bless  you." 

"  Oh,  yes." 

Then  the  coach  rolled  away. 

Through  all  the  evening  Spurbridge's  thoughts 
had  been  more  with  Lydia  than  with  the  forced 
jollity  that  surrounded  him  ;  and  now,  as  the  stage 
rolled  down  the  line  and  the  colonel's  set  of 
quarters  loomed  up  darkly,  he  was  struck  with  dis- 
may by  the  sudden  thought  that  he  had,  perhaiis, 
seen  her  for  the  last  time— and  then  he  resolutely 
threw  off  the  idea. 

"  It  is  for  you  I  am  doing  this,  Lydia !  "  he 
cried,  softly,  lest  the  driver  should  hear.  "  I  will 
succeed — and  then  come  back  !     Lydia  !  " 

He  threw  kisses  toward  the  house ;  for  it  was 
dark,  and  he  was  in  the  coach,  and  no  one  could 
know  what  he  did. 

And  Lydia  had  not  slept.  At  intervals  she  had 
heard  a  noisy  burst  of  laughter  from  Ralph's  quar- 
ters, and  kncAV  that  Spurbridgo  was  being  owled. 
She  had  gone  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep.  When  the 
stage  lumbered  past  she  heard  it,  and  knew  that 
Spurbridge  was  going — going.  She  had  seen  him 
for  the  last  time. 

She  was  on  her  feet  and  at  the  window  ;  the 
room  was  dark ;  no  one  could  know  what  she  did. 


OJV  THE  OFFENSIVE  295 

She  threw  kisses  after  the  fast  dimming  form  of 
the  coach,  and  breathed  after  it : 
"  That  is  for  success !  " 

The  stage  grumbled  on  its  leathern  springs 
down  the  hill  to  the  creek,  and  wallowed  through 
the  pebbles  with  a  luscious,  wet  sound  of  enjoy- 
ment. Then  up  the  other  side  the  stout  horses 
pulled  their  load,  up  the  sand}'  middle  of  the  ave- 
nue, down  the  slough  of  the  intersecting  street. 
By  and  by,  after  Spurbridge  had  lost  all  sense  of 
locality,  the  stage  stopped,  and  the  driver,  dis- 
mounting, opened  the  door  and  looked  in. 

"  Guess  you'll  have  company  now,"  he  said, 
genially.  Some  one  came  down  from  a  house,  and 
climbed  in.  Spurbridge  leaned  forward  to  see 
who  it  was,  and  received  the  faint  light  of  the 
moon  on  his  face.  The  man  getting  in  spoke  with 
surprise  : 

"Mr.  Spurbridge!" 

"Father  Brugan!" 

The  door  slammed  shut,  and  the  driver  lashed 
on  his  team. 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  said  Spurbridge,  at  length. 
"  I  anticipated  nothing  like  this." 

"  Nor  I ;  it  is  a  pleasant  surprise,"  said  the  priest. 
"  It  is  a  long  ride  to  the  railway,  and  one  would  be 
lonely." 

"Easily  so,"  replied  Spurbridge. 

A  little  later  he  said  :  "  We  have  not  seen  you 


2J»G  ON  THE  OFFENSIVE 

often  at  the  post  of  late."  He  told  himself  he 
had  not  seen  the  priest  there  in  months. 

"  Not  as  often  as  formerly.  I  have  been  so 
busy  in  town  it  has  been  impossible  for  me  to 
come." 

The  stage  jolted  out  of  town  and  struck  the 
smoother  turf  of  the  prairie.  It  rolled  on  with  a 
delightfully  soothing  motion. 

"  You  will  be  going  on  leave  ?  "  the  priest  asked, 
suddenly. 

"Yes,  I  am  on  leave,"  said  Spurbridge,  "  but  it 
is  more  than  that.  I  have  resigned  from  the  ser- 
vice— have  left  it  forever." 

"Ah  !  I  did  not  know  that !  "  the  priest  ejacu- 
lated in  surprise. 

"Yes.  I  am  done  with  it."  He  was  silent  a 
little  time.  "  Are  you  taking  a  vacation  yourself?  " 
he  ventured,  then. 

The  priest  started.  "  My  vacation  is,  in  a  way, 
also  permanent.  I  have  been  transferred.  I  am 
leaving  this  field  of  labor  forever." 

"  You  surprise  me,"  said  Spurbridge,  "  Tlie 
town  will  be  at  a  loss  without  you." 

They  rolled  forward  through  the  night,  these 
two  men,  sitting  side  by  side,  isolated  from  their 
fellows  by  distance  and  by  darkness.  Spurbridge 
soon  ceased  wondering  at  the  priest's  transfer  ;  he 
had  something  pleasanter  to  do.  He  thought  of 
himself,  of  his  work,  of  the  object  of  all  his  endeav- 
or now,  of  Lydia.     He  smiled  to  himself,  and  he 


ON  THE  OFFEJYSIVB  2 1)7 

whispered  her  name  softly — and  then  started  guilt- 
ily in  fear  that  the  priest  might  have  heard  him. 
But  he  soon  reproached  himself  for  that.  It  was 
nothing  to  the  priest ;  he  could  understand  the 
word  no  more  than  the  sentiment  that  prompt- 
ed its  utterance.  He  let  the  name  dwell  on 
his  lips,  a  liquid  shibboleth  to  j)eace  and  hap- 
piness for  all  his  life ;  and  he  allowed  his  delight 
of  forecast  to  so  enwrap  him  that  he  was  scarce 
conscious  of  the  other's  presence.  And  side  by 
side,  on  through  the  night,  to  a  new  field  of  labor, 
to  a  new  ambition,  the  stage  bore  them. 


IN  BLUE  UNIFORM. 

An  Army  Novel. 

By  GEORGE  I.  PUTNAM. 


mmo,  $i.oo. 


PRESS  NOTICES. 


THE  NATION. 


"  It  is  refreshing  to  read  the  first  novel  of  a  man  who  is  not  entirely 
devoid  of  the  Uterary  sense,  and  who  approaches  his  task  with  the  vigor 
and  energs'  of  one  who  is  bent  more  on  telling  his  story  than  on  filling  so 
many  pages.  .  .  .  The  larger  portion  of  the  book, which  seems  to  have 
almost  written  itself,  is  excellent." 

THE  BOSTON  BEACON. 

"  An  army  novel  of  quite  unusual  merit,  and  its  thoroughly  realistic  yet 
well-mannered  revelations  of  life  at  a  frontier  military  post  are  as  piquant 
as  they  are  original  and  suggestive." 

THE  CLEVELAND  LEADER. 

"The  author  tells  his  story  with  the  graphic  certainty  of  a  man  who 
passed  through  it  all,  but  keeps  himself  ^o  completely  in  the  background 
that  the  reader  cannot  tell  what  part  he  took  in  it.  .  .  .  His  object 
seems  to  have  been  the  relation  of  the  social  or  humorous  aspects  of  the 
soldier's  life.     The  book  is  delightful  reading." 

PUBLIC  OPINION. 

"  This  is  a  very  well-written  story  of  army  life  out  on  the  frontier  de- 
scribing the  daily  routine  of  regimental  experiences  at  a  post  on  a  West 
Texas  prairie.  The  descriptions  of  headquarters  and  of  accommodations 
and  lack  of  accommodations,  are  graphic,  life-like,  and  often  amusing." 

PHILADELPHIA  PUBLIC  LEDGER. 

"  This  is  a  strong  novel,  and  the  perspective  is  very  good.  The  plot  is 
unusual,  the  construction  careful  and  consistent." 


THE  CRITIC. 
"  An  exceptionally  well-written  story  of  army  life.  Its  author,  Mr. 
George  I.  Putnam,  was  at  one  time  an  officer  of  the  i6th  Infantry  and, 
having  the  requisite  literary  ability,  he  has  utilized  his  knowledge  of  life  at 
a  frontier  military  post  as  material  for  a  very  pretty  romance.  His  char- 
acters are  well  drawn  and  are  very  life-like  and  natural." 

BOSTON  COMMONWEALTH. 

"This  story  has  the  conspicuous  merit  of  creating  and  preserving 
throughout  the  breezy  atmosphere  of  frontier  army  life.  Its  author  knows 
the  little  world  whereof  he  writes  ;  his  touch  is  assured,  his  style  pictur- 
esque and  sympathetic,  and  the  story  he  has  to  tell  is  probable  and  inter- 
esting." 

THE  OUTLOOK. 

"  In  character  it  somewhat  resembles  the  well-known  stories  by  Captain 
King,  but  it  seems  to  us  to  have  decidedly  a  warmer  sympathy  with  the 
life  of  the  common  soldier  and  also  to  show  a  stronger  dramatic  instinct  on 
the  part  of  the  author." 

DENVER  REPUBLICAN. 

"  The  quiet  picture  of  garrison  life  at  a  frontier  army  post  is  skillfully 
drawn  as  an  effective  background  for  the  little  comedy  played  by  the  sev- 
eral characters.  .  .  .  With  this  life  Mr.  Putnam  is  not  only  familiar,  he 
is  thoroughly  in  touch  with  it.  and  this  sympathy  has  been  of  assistance  in 
giving  artistic  color  to  his  story.  The  very  air  of  the  army  post  pervades 
the  book." 

INDIANAPOLIS  NEWS. 

"Mr.  Putnam  is  more  of  a  philosopher  than  Captain  King,  who  has 
written  so  often  of  the  regular  army  and  its  lights  and  shadows,  and  he 
approaches  his  story  telling  with  a  decided  purpose.  The  pictures  which 
he  gives  of  the  post  of  the  Old  Regiment  are  vivid,  and  one  gets  a  capital 
idea  of  the  routine  of  garrison  life." 

DETROIT  FREE  PRESS. 

"  An  army  novel  and  one  of  the  best  it  has  been  our  good  fortune  to  see 
for  many  a  day.  The  style  is  good,  the  story  interesting  from  the  start, 
and  the  picture  of  life  in  camp  and  at  an  army  post  photographic  in  its 
accuracy.  The  plot  is  a  double  one,  or  .rather  there  are  two  stories,  tlie 
threads  of  which  run  side  by  side  interweaving  here  and  there  in  a  way 
that  is  always  attractive  and  sometimes  very  pathetic." 

NEW  YORK  COMMERCIAL  ADVERTISER. 

"An  entertaining  tale,  with  an  underlying  vein  of  serious  thought  on 
matters  of  some  moment  as  connected  with  the  details  of  army  manage- 
ment." 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  Publishers, 
743  and  745  Broadway,  New  York  City. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
891 


